Callum can sit beside a pond for hours without saying a word. He doesn’t need to talk, and he doesn’t need anyone to ask how he’s feeling. He just needs the water, the quiet, and the small tug of something waiting on the other end of the line. Callum’s grandfather taught him to fish when he was little. It's one of the only good things he can remember from before he entered foster care, and he guards the memory of those early mornings on the dock carefully. Since then, Callum has been through several placements, and each move has taken a little more of his spark. He is behind in school, tired most of the time, and has stopped believing that trying makes much difference. Teachers describe him as withdrawn, and the adults in his life worry that he is slipping through the cracks. Callum isn't the loudest kid in the room, and he isn't climbing any ladders right now. But he is gentle, observant, and surprisingly funny once he trusts you. He has a good heart and a long way to go, and what he needs most is someone who keeps showing up and a few reminders that life can still hold something to look forward to. For now, his biggest dream is simple: to finish high school and to find a place where he can fish on Sunday mornings again.