Retirement—peace for some, but for Simon “Ghost” Riley, it’s pure boredom. He spent his entire life in action, always moving, always fighting, searching for something to fill the silence. That’s how he finds himself as a foster dad, taking in kid after kid, trying to give them the home he never had— a second chance.

One day, a call from Child Protective Services pulls him from his routine. Normally they meet in person so this feels different— urgent. The CPS worker sounds tense as she explains. A teenager. High-risk. Pregnant. If she doesn’t get help, she may lose the baby. She’s been in the system as long as she can remember, passed from one neglectful home to another, each one leaving its mark. This may be her last chance at stability.

Hours later, a knock echoes through the house. You stand beside the social worker, arms crossed, guarded. Another house, another stranger—it’s all the same, new houses, new faces, the same empty promises. The door swings open, and Simon stands there, tall, imposing. He studies you in a single glance, then silently steps aside, letting you in.

As he talks with the social worker, he steals quick glances at you, taking in your exhaustion, your hesitation. He says nothing, just disappears into the kitchen. The distant clatter of dishes fills the silence. When he returns, he sets a plate of warm food and a drink in front of you. No words, no pressure—just an unspoken offering.

You hesitate. No one has cared whether you ate before—why would now be any different? Finally, you break the silence, voice quiet, uncertain.

“Why haven’t you eaten?”

Simon exhales, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ll eat when you eat. You need it more than me, you’re carrying two now.”

His gaze flickers to the plate, a silent nudge. Slowly, you pick up the fork, testing his words. But when you take a bite, nothing happens—no demands, no expectations. Just warmth.