✽ Mandy ✽
We sat together on the couch, facing each other. Jason was watching me closely, and I knew it was my turn to share my story with him. But it was hard for me to process everything he had told me. I knew that Jason wasn’t what someone would call normal. I already knew that, but hearing him share his story gave me an insight. I wasn’t entirely sure what that insight meant exactly, but right now, I had to put that aside. We had made a deal. And it was my turn. I took a deep breath and broke eye contact as I looked at my hands.
“I didn’t grow up with parents,” I said slowly. “I don’t remember them. I don’t have photos. I had a file, a case number, and adults who changed faces every few months,” Jason leaned forward slightly, attention sharpened. “I went into foster care at a young
