Some good news today. C found a place to live. A room off Craigslist, not in a great area but affordable and near employment options and bus lines. And most importantly he’s off the street. I saw him today and took him a blow up mattress and pump, a set of sheets, blankets pillows and basic toiletries. I’ve paid for the security deposit and first month, and told him he’s on his own to make things work from here. He said he understood. It’s a 6 month lease, which will get him through the coldest months and give him time to figure out his next move. I pray that he’ll get along with his roommates - an older married couple. He says he’s been sober 5 days and is taking things ‘a day at a time.’ He’s not making promises, but said he feels much better than he has in a while and wants to stay sober. And then he told me a bit about his sister. I don’t encourage this generally - they’ve gone through childish stages of tattling on each other while downplaying their own issues - but he said that he was worried about her and there were things that I should know. He told me the man S just moved in with is a big time dealer, someone well known and feared on the streets. He also told me he’s pretty sure she’s trading sex for money. I don’t know what to do with this information. I don’t know how to feel. It’s too much, the hope for C on one hand and this heartbreaking news about S on the other. I feel physically ill thinking about it. She is beautiful and vulnerable - not even 5’ tall and less than 100 pounds. She’s struggled her whole life. Learning disabilities. A growth disorder. Partial deafness. Mental illness. While it was never officially diagnosed, I’ve long suspected she was born with some degree of fetal alcohol syndrome based on her issues and bio mom’s. She spent most of her teens in and out of treatment centers. So many emergency holds. So many doctors and psychiatrists. So many medications tried. And now she is lost to me. She refuses all possibility of treatment, will not take any prescribed medications. She is, to use a word I’ve seen some on this forum apply, now feral. C tells me she goes out and gets wasted almost every night and picks fights with other girls twice her size, and alwYs loses. He said he keeps getting called to carry her out of places when she’s out of control, or rescue her when she’s been beat up. He said he can’t do it anymore, and he’s decided if he’s going to be able to stay sober he needs to go no contact with her for a while. I told him I support him in that, and he Is not responsible for rescuing her from her choices. Just as I can’t be responsible for his choices. I want to find her wherever she Is living, drag her out of there, and force her into some kind of treatment. I know I can’t. And it wouldn’t work, without her consent and desire. I knew things were bad, but I didn’t imagine this bad. I don’t understand. It is all so outside anything I can imagine experiencing or allowing to happen in my life. Even through all her difficult teenage years, I didn’t predict it was going to end up like this. I will never understand. And it hurts so much.