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 ⬇️