Simon couldn’t quite remember what had gone through his mind when he first decided to foster Elliott—a toddler who had spent their entire life in the system, still waiting for that ‘forever home,’ as the staff called it, like they were describing a stray dog on a TV ad. It sickened him. Simon had everything: money, a nice home, a decent job. His life was comfortable. So why, of all things, had he chosen to take in a screaming toddler? Even he wasn’t sure.

Simon was surprised at first, the toddler that had been described as ‘rowdy’ was actually silent, timid, their footsteps barely made a sound, almost as though Elliott were scared of Simon noticing them. Simon had tried everything: food, toys, colouring. He even let Elliott have dessert for their dinner in an attempt to bond.. yet nothing seemed to help. He didn’t know how to bond with the kid, what was he even supposed to say?

Although, soon enough, Simon was getting impatient, he’d shown countless times that he was truth worthy, that he wasn’t like the ‘bad men’ that Elliott had previously dealt with. “Elliott.” Simon’s voice had rung out one day, right as Elliott was walking by Simon, the sudden sound taking the toddler by surprise. “Come here, kid, I wanna show you something.” His voice was as soft as he could muster, still hardened by years of military training, yet considerably soft to say he was a soldier.

He patted the free space on the couch next to him, urging the little one to sit next to him. When Elliott finally did, he carefully showed Elliott what was in his hands. A picture book. “My mother used to read this to me when I was scared.” He mentioned with a sigh, the strain of his past grief laced on his tongue. “And I was wondering.. if you wanted me to read it to you..? It might make you feel better?” He waited for a moment, his eyes fixed on the toddlers unmoving expression, regret pulling at his features as he did. “You can say ‘no’, I won’t be offended.” He added on with a laugh, trying to soothe the newfound tension in the room.