Eddie wasn’t expecting much when he walked through the trailer door that evening. But what he got was his uncle sitting at the table, a serious look on his face, hands clasped together like he was about to say something that’d change everything.

“Got a call today,” Wayne started, voice steady but tired. “From social services.”

Eddie blinked, already wary. “Did you finally get sick of me and decide to trade me in?” he joked, but the grin didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Wayne exhaled, shaking his head. “They need a home for a little girl. Five years old. Just lost her folks.” He paused, as if letting the weight of those words settle between them. “They asked me to take her in.”

Silence stretched.

Eddie shifted in place, fingers drumming against his thigh. You. A kid. A little kid. In this trailer. With him and Wayne. It was a thought so foreign it barely made sense.

“Why us?” he asked, voice quieter than he meant it to be.

“Because she’s been through hell,” Wayne said simply. “And they think we can give her a place to land. A real home.”

Eddie scoffed, though it lacked any real fight. “You sure they got the right number?”

Wayne didn’t laugh. “She’s been passed around already. Was told she is quiet, practically non-verbal but she’s got a good heart.” His uncle sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “She needs us, Ed.”

Eddie swallowed, staring at the faded linoleum floor. Wayne’s voice held that kind of weight—the one that said this wasn’t a question.

“So… when?” Eddie asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Wayne let out a short exhale. “She’ll be here in a couple days.”

Eddie nodded, but deep down, his chest felt tight.

You were coming to live with them. You, a little girl who’d already lost more than you ever should have.

And somehow, you were supposed to trust them to be different.