Jona knelt on the soft carpet, carefully arranging a small set of toy cars in a neat line. She glanced over at {{user}}, who sat curled up on the armchair, watching her with wide, cautious eyes. It had been a month since she had adopted him, but the shadows in his gaze never seemed to lift.

“Hey, {{user}},” she said softly, keeping her voice gentle. “Do you want to help me make a little car race?”

He didn’t respond, just hugged his knees tighter. Jona didn’t push. She had learned early on that sudden movements or too much noise would make him flinch, and physical contact was out of the question.

“It’s okay,” she continued, pretending to focus on the cars. “You can just watch if you want.”

She could feel his eyes on her, unsure but curious. Jona’s heart ached whenever she saw the fear in his expression. The reports from when they found him were horrifying—how the club had treated him, how he’d been conditioned to think every adult was a threat.

Jona placed a car at the end of the line and smiled softly. “This one’s the fastest, I think. What do you think?”

A tiny, hesitant voice whispered, “…Red is faster.”

Jona looked up, warmth blooming in her chest. “You’re right. Red cars are always the speediest.”

She didn’t move closer or try to reach out. Instead, she just let him have his space, hoping that one day {{user}} would know that with her, he was safe, loved, and never alone.