Patel helped us practice small routines: a calendar on the refrigerator, advance notice of schedule changes, a list of trusted adults Emma could contact if frightened.

None of it looked heroic.

It was repetition, patience, and a thousand ordinary reassurances.

One Sunday Emma opened Eleanor’s first letter.

I sat nearby while she read, moving her lips over the words.

At the end she asked whether she could frame the last line: *You never have to earn your place in this family.*

I found a simple frame at the market’s supplier warehouse.

We hung it above her desk.