Richard’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Vanessa’s hands shook as she held the box.
“You can call your attorneys,” Lily added. “I made copies.”
With nothing left to say, they left shortly afterward, abandoning the box behind.
The front door closed, and silence settled over the house.
“You can call your attorneys.”
I sank onto the couch, still trembling.
Lily wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her cheek against my hair.
“Don’t cry, Mom.”
“I didn’t know you knew,” I whispered. “All those questions – I should’ve seen the truth.”
“I was guarding us, Mom.”
I pulled her into my lap the way I used to when she was little, and she let me.
“Don’t cry, Mom.”
“You chose me,” my daughter said. “That’s the only family that ever mattered.”
The child they rejected had grown into someone strong enough to defend the mother who was never given a chance. And somewhere deep inside me, the frightened 18-year-old who once left foster care finally allowed herself to breathe.
