Adrian handed him a handwritten agreement he’d prepared the night before.
It was signed within minutes.
By evening, the stairwell light worked. The railings were secure. The dryer vent was cleared. My outlet cover no longer hung loose.
Later, Adrian placed a folder on the table.
“My disability claim file,” he said. “I’m reopening it Monday.”
“Why tell me?”
“Transparency builds trust.”
The weeks that followed didn’t bring miracles, but they brought steadiness. His claim reopened. Modest payments began. My apartment stopped deteriorating. Mr. Pritchard treated us differently—less dismissive, more cautious.
One evening, Oliver asked quietly, “Mom, is Adrian family now?”
