Claudia’s phone rests on her lap now, her attention still fully on me. “I need you to hear something.”
I nod because it feels like the only control I have left.
“You do not have to take Lucy in,” she says carefully. “Showing up doesn’t mean signing your life away. It just means being the person who didn’t disappear.”
My throat tightens.
“I still have my dissertation,” I whisper. “I live with four roommates. Two bedrooms, doubled up. They’re sweet, but they’re slobs. I barely have space to breathe, let alone bring a three-year-old into that.”
Claudia nods slowly. “That’s real. And the system will look at that.”
“I don’t even have money,” I add weakly. “I’m still grinding. I can’t just become someone’s everything overnight.”
“They might hope you will,” she says gently. “But hope and obligation aren’t the same.”
I stare down at my hands, panic buzzing under my skin.
“And what if I ruin her?” My voice cracks. “I barely survived my own childhood. And the only way I made it out was by working my ass off and never looking back.”
Claudia leans forward, voice calm and warm. “Which is exactly why you’re different.”
Tears spill before I can stop them.
“You escaped,” she says softly. “You built structure where there was none. Kids don’t need perfection. They need someone who understands what unsafe feels like and shows them better.”
I shake my head. “I’m scared they’ll expect me to say yes.”
“They might hope,” she says again. “But tonight isn’t about permanence. It’s about presence.”
I swallow hard, chest aching.
“She’s been told about you,” Claudia adds. “Your mom must have talked about you like you were proof life could be better. Lucy doesn’t see a stranger coming. She sees someone she’s already been taught is real.”
The plane hums under us, steady and still in the air,thank God.
“You’re allowed to say no,” Claudia says quietly. “But your being there, even just tonight, will change her. Kids remember who shows up. Even if they can’t stay.”
Deep down, beneath the terror and logistics and noise in my head, something small and aching stirs. Because I was that kid once. And no one came.
Lucy deserves at least one person who does.
Claudia squeezes my hand gently. “Whatever happens next, your presence gives her proof she’s not invisible.”
My heart breaks open around those words.
I’m terrified. I’m unprepared. I’m still just a student with too many responsibilities and nowhere near enough room.
I knew one day, when I was able, I would try to help her, but right now, I’m not able.
Claudia’s phone starts vibrating nonstop against her leg, a sharp, relentless buzz that cuts through the quiet hum of the plane.
I try not to look. I fail.
The screen lights up again and again and again with the girls’ group chat. Names stacking. Messages pouring in faster than Ican breathe. Claudia shifts the phone slightly away, polite even now, but the preview flashes just long enough for my eyes to catch words I was never meant to see.
Claudia:
She has roommates. That’s not ideal. Might not even be possible.
