By the time we met Ava, we had gone through an emotional rollercoaster.
Too much paperwork, too many false starts, and too many cases that seemed promising until they weren’t.
I had learned not to let one good meeting turn into a whole imagined future.
Then Ava rolled into the room and looked straight at me with those serious gray eyes, and joy filled my heart.
She was nine years old. Small for her age. Thin, careful, and self-contained.
She used a wheelchair after a spinal injury she had suffered as a toddler. The social worker, Beth, told us Ava was bright, observant, and slow to trust new people.
She also said Ava had moved through enough placements that she did not react much at first, even when she was interested.
« She watches before she decides, » Beth told us.
