they were right. Maybe work was more important.”

I swallowed carefully.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“You didn’t make me,” she said. “They did. But I still felt it.”

That was my daughter.

Small.

Hurt.

Honest.

I reached across the table.

“I’ll always come back to you.”

“I know,” she said.

And this time, she sounded as though she truly believed it.

I thought continue reading …

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