I learned to recognize the difference between Noah's silence and his refusal.
His silence meant he was thinking. His refusal meant he was trying to make himself smaller so no one would ask him for anything. I didn't always get it right, but I learned not to fill every quiet space with questions.
For a while, our house began to feel less like an emergency shelter. Noah took the bus to school from our street. He came home, did his homework at the kitchen table, and ate dinner with us. Evan showed him how to patch a bicycle tire. I showed him how to make grilled cheese without burning the bread.
Noah liked rules when they were clear. He hated surprises. I started leaving the week's schedule on the fridge so he could see when we'd be home.
The county assessment moved slowly. We had intervi
