She shook her head.
“Let me finish.”
Tears glistened in her eyes.
“You may not have my blood.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“But you’ve always been my daughter.”
The room disappeared.
Nothing existed except those words.
After all these years.
After every sacrifice.
Every lunch packed.
Every school play attended.
Every scraped knee bandaged.
Every heartbreak survived.
She had never seen me as a stepdaughter.
Only a daughter.
