“I wanted to hope that her maternal instincts would kick in and that she would just be like, ‘Well, I don’t agree with it, but I still love you and we’ll figure it out.’ But that’s not what happened.”

—Clarissa Cook, who took Shane in after he fled his mother's home. With the officer’s assistance, Shane said he was eventually allowed inside. He hurriedly stuffed the rest of his possessions into bags as his parents watched. He said he was scared, even though his friends and the officer were just outside.

Much of the encounter was a daze, but he remembered one thing clearly: “I looked at the floor, and I saw that there was paper torn all over the floor.”

He said all the hand-drawn holiday cards Stevens had made for him over the years had been torn to shreds.

Since leaving home, Shane has shared a room with Stevens, sleeping beneath her loft bed. He now works two jobs, pays all his own expenses and is navigating life without his family’s support.

The two described the arrangement as the “greatest, longest sleepover” ever.

For Cook, taking Shane in meant ensuring he had a safe place to go when he needed it.

“I could never possibly replace his mom, but I just wanted to be there and let him know he had support,” Cook said. “I wanted to hope that her maternal instincts would kick in and that she would just be like, ‘Well, I don’t agree with it, but I still love you and we’ll figure it out.’ But that’s not what happened.”

One of Cook’s greatest fears was that Shane might hurt himself. Shane said he shared that concern about what might have happened without support.

“If I didn’t have the support that I did have, I would be in such an awful place,” he said. “I probably wouldn’t be here.”

‘Everything that she can do to other people’ In the weeks after Shane left home, Kelli texted him every night, sending pages of messages saying, “I love you” or “I forgive you.” Shane ignored the texts and eventually blocked her number, coming to terms with the possibility that things would never change.

Now, as he sees his mother’s campaign signs lining the streets, he said he feels “something akin to rage” and worries about children who may not have the same support system he had.

“I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anybody else, whether it be my sisters or other kids in the school district,” he said, “because I know I was miserable.”

Shane said he still has not received his high school diploma because he is missing a history credit. Given their estrangement and lack of contact, he does not expect to receive it anytime soon.

Cook, who watched her own daughter become involved in the conflict and face personal attacks, still has two children in the district. She is concerned about Kelli’s influence as a school board member. She said it is difficult to separate Kelli’s political work as a Turning Point USA employee from her role overseeing a public school system.

“She has her own agenda,” Cook said. “I’m super uncomfortable with that.”

For Shane, that is what makes seeing his mother’s name on campaign signs different now. He no longer sees only the person whose decisions shaped his childhood. He sees a public official asking voters for the power to help shape the education of thousands of other children according to her own values.

“When I see those campaign signs, it’s just a reminder of everything that she did,” he said, “and everything that she can do to other people.”