Chapter 14: The Apology
I watched my daughter’s friends throw sticks for the dog she had searched for until her last day.
Then I turned to them.
“I’m sorry.”
All four looked at me.
“I blamed you because I couldn’t bear where else the pain belonged. That wasn’t fair.”
The dark-haired boy shook his head.
“You lost your daughter.”
“And you lost your friend,” I said.
The blond girl hugged me first. Awkward, sudden, and completely sincere.
Then the others joined until I was standing there holding the kids I once sent away, all of us crying for the same girl.
Benji barked into the wind and ran back, tail flying.
And I laughed.
My first real laugh since the funeral.
I still miss my daughter in ways words cannot reach.
But something had changed on that mountain.
The grief was still there.
Only now, I wasn’t carrying it alone. Continue Reading ⬇️
