9-1-1 ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛs

New addition- Henrettia Wilson

Grace Wilson - 7

Hen stood in the doorway of the small, cozy room that had been lovingly prepared for their new daughter. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and there were shelves filled with books and toys. A stuffed unicorn sat on the neatly made bed, its eyes wide and inviting. Hen's wife, Karen, had spent hours making sure everything was perfect, hoping it would make the transition a little easier for Grace, the seven-year-old girl they had just adopted.

Grace sat on the edge of the bed, her small frame hunched over, clutching a worn-out teddy bear. Her dark curls framed her face, but her eyes were cast downward, not meeting Hen's gaze. She looked fragile, like a delicate bird that had been knocked out of its nest.

Hen took a deep breath, reminding herself to be patient. "Hi, Grace," she said softly, walking into the room and kneeling down to her level. "I'm Hen, and I'm so happy you're here. This is your room now. Do you like it?"

Grace glanced up briefly, her eyes scanning the room before returning to the teddy bear in her arms. She didn't say anything, but Hen caught the tiniest nod. It was a start.

Karen appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on her face. "Hey there, sweetheart. We're going to be right here with you. If you need anything at all, just let us know, okay?"

Grace nodded again, this time a bit more noticeably, but still didn't speak. Hen and Karen exchanged a glance, silently communicating their shared determination to give this little girl all the love and support she needed.

The first few days were a mix of quiet moments and cautious steps. Grace was reserved, her eyes constantly darting around as if she expected something to go wrong at any moment. Hen and Karen took turns spending time with her, reading stories, playing gentle games, and just sitting nearby, offering their presence without pressuring her to talk.

One evening, Hen found Grace in the living room, staring at a photo album on the coffee table. Hen sat down beside her, keeping a respectful distance. "Those are pictures from our wedding," she explained softly. "That's me in the suit, and that's Karen in the dress. It was a really happy day."

Grace looked at the pictures, her small fingers tracing the edges of the photos. "You look happy," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Hen's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and hope. "We were. And we're happy now too, because you're with us."

Grace didn't respond, but she didn't pull away either. Hen took it as a good sign.

Over the next few weeks, Grace began to open up bit by bit. She started to speak more, her voice soft but steady. She played with the toys in her room, and sometimes Hen would hear her humming quietly to herself. It was a beautiful sound, one that made all the effort and patience worth it.

One morning, Hen decided it was time to introduce Grace to another important part of her life. "Hey, Grace," she said as they ate breakfast together. "How would you like to come with me to the fire station today? You can meet my friends and see where I work."

Grace looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. "The fire station?"

Hen smiled. "Yeah. It's a really cool place, and everyone there is really nice. I think you'll like it."

Grace hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

When they arrived at Station 118, Grace clung to Hen's hand, her eyes darting around nervously. Hen squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's okay, Grace. You're safe here."

As they walked into the station, Hen's colleagues greeted them warmly. "Hey, Hen!" Chimney called out. "And who's this little lady?"

Hen smiled down at Grace. "This is my daughter, Grace. Grace, this is Chimney. He's one of the paramedics I work with."