I found my daughter asleep on a piece of cardboard behind a shuttered pharmacy, her wedding ring hanging from a string around her neck like a relic from a life already buried. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Rain had soaked through her coat. Her hair, once beautiful and carefully kept, stuck to her pale cheeks. A single plastic bag held everything she still owned.
“Anna,” I whispered.
Her eyes opened slowly. Shame appeared in them before recognition did.
“Dad?”
That one word shattered something inside me.
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