The weight of the inquiry settled like a rock in my gut. John the Giant. His name alone conjured pictures of harsh power, a force of nature with the ability of squashing anything in its path. The idea of him endangering my family, my mom, my sis, and the at risk foster kids who rely upon me, sent a shiver down my spine. Was I strong enough to face him head-on? Everything stacked against me seemed insurmountable. Saving them would take shrewd, guts, and probably a touch of anxiety I didn’t recognize I had. The other option - watching us all become victims to his savage cruelty - was a nightmare I refused to accept. I understood inaction was not a choice. My life, my family members’s lives, hung in the equilibrium. The question wasn’t if I’d stand my ground, but how I’d survive this hell and hold on to those I cherish.