Right away. Before I even understood myself. He reached out to me when no one would look at me, let alone touch me. He took me in without an ounce of fear or disgust.

Everyone else just told themselves that I was someone else's problem. That a hero would come to take care of me, but they took one look at me and didn't want anything to do with me or convinced themselves that they had something better to do.

I was a mess yeah, with bits of my family under my nails and my own blood caked on my skin. But I was five.