My name is Claire, and I grew up in foster care, moving so often that I learned not to unpack or get too attached. By the time I arrived at my last group home, I had made peace with the idea that stability wasn’t meant for me. That changed the day I met Noah, a quiet boy in a wheelchair who spent most afternoons by the window observing the world. I sat beside him with a book and made a joke about sharing the view. He smiled, introduced himself, and from that moment on, we became constants in each other’s lives. We grew up side by side, sharing late-night conversations, inside jokes, and the unspoken understanding that we were each other’s chosen family.
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