My father lifted his glass too. He glanced at Elena with pride so visible it felt like a spotlight.
My mother smiled wider.
“And honestly,” she added, “we probably should have stopped having kids after Elena.”
The room laughed.
It started as a few chuckles—some surprised, some indulgent. Then it spread, because laughter is contagious, and because people love a joke that makes them feel included in someone else’s family humor. Someone at the back snorted. A few relatives clapped like it was clever.
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