She’d been injured in a car accident. Her father died. Her spinal injury was incomplete—therapy might help, but progress would be slow. Her mother had signed away parental rights, unable to cope with the medical demands or the grief.
When Lily looked up and met my eyes, she didn’t look away. She looked like a child waiting to see if a door would open—or close again.
Something broke inside me.
I didn’t see a diagnosis. I saw a child who had been left behind.
No one wanted to adopt her.
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