From that moment on, she never called me anything else. Every time she saw me, her arms flew open. She would yell, “Auntie!” and run straight into my arms.
She followed Claire everywhere—drawing her pictures, helping in the kitchen with tiny plastic spoons, and curling up next to her on the couch as if she’d always belonged there. And the truth was, she did.
Claire would watch her with pride and say, “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”
I believed her. For the first time, Claire seemed complete. It felt like our family had finally healed.
For illustrative purposes only
But life has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs—the kind that leave bruises you never see coming.
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