I laughed and cried at the same time, overwhelmed. Who was this person? How did they know exactly what we needed?
That night, after Willow and Mom were asleep, I left my own note under the doormat:
Days passed. Then one morning, I came home to see a man near the gate, shifting nervously.
“Harper?” he said quietly.
“Wait… Jaxon?” I asked.
He nodded. It clicked. Jaxon—the quiet kid from English class, the one everyone picked on. I was the only one who ever spoke up for him.
“I wanted to help you,” he said. “You once stood up for me when no one else did. I never forgot that. Now it’s my turn.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. Words weren’t enough.
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