“I love it.”
She climbed into my lap, suddenly too big and still small enough to fit.
Outside, snow began to fall across the dark street.
Inside, Daniel’s photograph stood beside the candle we lit for him.
I thought about the folder he had labeled for me.
Rachel decides.
For years, I believed deciding meant choosing whether to keep giving.
I finally understood that it also meant choosing where my daughter and I would never again have to beg for a place at the table.
