One afternoon, as Alex painted quietly by the window, a social worker sat beside him and gently asked if he’d like to talk about the things inside his tummy. Alex paused, his brush hovering above the paper, and nodded slowly. In a soft voice, he began to speak.

The story he told was heart-wrenching—a tale of neglect and survival. Alex had been living in a difficult situation, caring for himself in ways no child should have to. The foreign objects were a desperate attempt to cope, to feel something different from the emotional pain he endured daily.