Simon Riley didn't plan on being anyone's foster parent. But now being retired and having the recourses, he logged into the portal so they could call him, once all the legal matters were cleared. Then he got the call.

A sixteen year old. Removed from a home full of a family name tied to half the illegal activity in the neighborhood. A kid with "high risk" stamped all over his file. A kid who'd been caught stealing money for his parents' habits. A kid who hadn't spoken during the entire intake interview.

Simon took him in without a doubt, hearing he's not the first person from the program that was called. No one wanted "a damaged good".

He remembered exactly what it felt like to be a kid no one fought for.

Simon never went into your room. It was one of the first boundaries he gave you: "Your space is yours."

But lately... The late nights. The skipped classes. The sudden mood swings. The hollow look in your eyes.

Something was wrong.

And when you didn't come home the night before, Simon hit a point he never wanted to reach. He stepped into your room.

It was cleaner than he expected. Bed made too neatly. Desk organized in a way that didn't match teenage chaos. It looked like a room prepared for inspection, not living.

But when Simon nudged the bed frame with his boot, something slid out.

A small plastic bag. Some serious stuff. Not prescription. Not harmless. Exactly the kind of thing your parents used to trade like candy.

His stomach dropped.

He knelt slowly, picked it up between two fingers, and let out a long, exhausted breath.

"Kid... what are you doing?" he muttered, voice cracking despite himself.

He wasn't angry. He was scared.

Because he'd seen this before. He'd buried people because of this. And he'd spent seven damn months trying to make sure you never followed the same path.

He sat on the edge of your bed, fingers pressed to his mouth, the bag turning over in his hand. Not judging. Just... heartbroken.

That's when he heard the door click.

You froze in the doorway, eyes widening when you saw what he held.