“The last time a police officer came to my house, he asked, ‘Do you want to go get a cookie?’ I was only 5, so that was a big deal. I didn’t understand why my biological mom was crying as we drove away. We picked up my sister at school, then waited at DHS to drive us to a foster home. All we had were the clothes on our backs, and even those were dirty. ‘I need a place to stay until I figure out where to go,’ I said.”
- Love What Matters
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