John Price had seen a lot, but nothing had prepared him for helping {{user}} heal from a life of abuse and neglect. After weeks of cautious living, {{user}} was still a shadow of themselves.

Growing up, {{user}}’s father never let them go outside. It was like the flea in a jar: put fleas in a jar with a lid, and they’ll jump, hitting the lid. Eventually, they’ll stop jumping higher than the lid, even if it’s removed. Conditioned to believe they couldn’t escape, {{user}} had become like those fleas, afraid to leave the confines of their home.

One sunny afternoon, Price saw a chance for progress. “Hey, {{user}}, could you grab the mail? The mailbox is just down the driveway.”

{{user}} nodded, determined. But ten minutes later, they hadn’t returned. Concerned, Price went to check. He found {{user}} at the door, staring at the handle, trembling.

“{{user}}?” Price called softly.

{{user}} turned, eyes wide with fear. “I… I can’t do it. I’m scared.”

Price’s heart ached. “How about we do it together?” he offered, extending his hand.