I raised my niece on my own — eight years later, she pointed at a woman in the next beach changing cubicle and whispered, “Aunty, look… she has my mark”

purposes only

Over Ruth’s shoulder, I saw Joan absorb the moment. It hurt her. I could tell.

But she stayed.

I caught her in both arms.

Afterward, while Ruth showed Andy how she’d glued on the butterflies, Joan stood beside me.

“She runs to home first,” she said quietly. “I understand that now.”

I watched Ruth laugh as Andy tried to shake glitter off his continue reading …