Abandoned

42

The morning light crept gently into Sienna's hospital room, filtered through half-drawn blinds and softened by the quiet hum of the ward waking up. Sienna lay curled against Zareya's side on the bed, her elephant plush tucked under her chin, her breathing slow and even. The trial overnight had taken everything out of her, but she had done it. And she was still here. Still safe.

Zareya brushed her thumb slowly along Sienna's arm, grounding herself in the moment. Her chest felt tight with something that hovered between fear and hope. Today mattered.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Two women stepped inside, familiar faces now. Marla and Fiona, the social workers assigned to Sienna's case. They carried folders tucked under their arms and wore the kind of careful expressions that came with conversations that could change lives.

"Good morning," Marla said quietly, keeping her voice low. "We heard last night went, about as expected."

Zareya smiled faintly. "She struggled. But she settled eventually."

Fiona nodded. "That tells us a lot."

Sienna stirred at the sound of unfamiliar voices, her brow creasing. She shifted closer to Zareya, one small hand curling into the fabric of her shirt.

Zareya leaned down and murmured, "It's okay, baby. I've got you."

Only then did Sienna relax again.

They waited until Sienna was awake and calmer, sitting on the floor with her cups and binder, before beginning.

"We want to talk about next steps," Marla began, flipping her folder open. "Specifically, home preparation."

Zareya nodded, already feeling her pulse quicken.

"As you know," Fiona continued gently, "your current residence is in Canada. And while that could be an option eventually, it's not realistic for Sienna right now."

"No," Zareya agreed immediately. "I wouldn't move her that far. Not yet. Not when she's just starting to feel safe."

Marla smiled softly. "That's exactly what we hoped you'd say."

Zareya took a slow breath. "I've been looking into buying a house locally. Something permanent. Something that can be hers."

The words settled in the room, heavy, intentional.

Fiona's eyes softened. "You'd be purchasing a new home specifically for this placement?"

"Yes," Zareya said without hesitation. "I don't want her adjusting to a temporary space. I want to build something stable from the beginning. A place she doesn't have to leave."

Sienna, sitting nearby, picked at the edge of her binder absently, unaware of the magnitude of the moment, but keenly aware of Zareya's steadiness.

Marla closed her folder gently. "That tells us a great deal about your commitment."

Instead of inspecting a current residence, the conversation shifted to planning.

"What would the layout look like?" Fiona asked. "Single-level?"

"Absolutely," Zareya replied. "Minimal stairs. Open but not echoing. A quiet room she can retreat to."

They discussed neighbourhoods, calm streets, nearby green spaces, minimal traffic noise. Proximity to medical facilities. Access to therapy services. Schools with specialised support.

"She'll need predictability," Laila added, joining the meeting. "And low sensory load."

Zareya nodded. "I want her bedroom to be the anchor. Soft lighting. Neutral colours. Nothing overwhelming."