Her beloved stuffed bunny peeked from under one arm, her spirit so full of joy it almost hid the harsh truth: we had no home to return to. The apartment was long gone—traded away for months of unpaid rent and sleepless nights in a stiff vinyl hospital chair. My job had vanished after too many “we understand” calls turned into silence. And Callie’s father? He disappeared the moment life asked more of him than he was willing to give.

Still, I held myself together. I always did. I braided her thinning hair, tied on cheerful scarves, let her pick out balloons we could never afford. I smiled through the exhaustion because she needed courage, not sorrow.

Standing in the hospital lobby with our lives crammed into two duffel bags, I saw two uniformed police officers walking toward us