Her eyes were red and puffy, the kind of swollen that only comes from crying hard and trying not to make a sound.
I knocked lightly.
“Can I come in?”
She sat up fast, wiping at her face with both hands. “Yes.”
I walked in slowly and sat down beside her.
The bed creaked under my weight.
I folded my hands in my lap and looked at her — really looked at her.
This girl who turned my life upside down in a matter of days.
“I know everything now,” I said.
She flinched, like the truth still stung.
Her shoulders sank as she looked away.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I didn’t mean to come between you and your husband.”
I reached over and gently took her hand. It was cold and soft, like she was still unsure I wouldn’t pull away.
“You didn’t,” I said.
“You’re not the problem.
You’re his daughter. That means… you’re part of this family now.”
Her lips trembled. “I thought you hated me.”
I shook my head.
“No. I was scared. That’s not the same.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’ve never had a real family before,” she said, voice barely there.
I pulled her into a hug.
Her body leaned into mine like she hadn’t been hugged in years. Like she needed it more than words.
“You do now,” I whispered into her hair. “You’re home.”
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