Epilogue: The Door That Finally Opened
Dad knocked softly.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the door opened.
The woman standing there looked older than I remembered. Life had touched her face, and sorrow had settled around her eyes. But she still had the same smile.
The same eyes.
My mother’s eyes.
For one frozen second, nobody moved.
Then she burst into tears.
“My girls?”
I threw my arms around her first.
Lily followed immediately.
Mom held us like she was afraid we might disappear if she loosened her grip.
Dad stood behind us crying silently, one hand pressed over his mouth, finally seeing the full weight of what had been stolen from all of us.
For fifteen years, I had believed I was the kind of daughter a mother could leave behind.
But as my mother held me on that porch, I finally understood the truth.
She had never stopped coming back for us.
