They grow.
They remember.
They form lives around the people who actually love them.
And eventually, they become old enough to decide for themselves who deserves a place beside them.
I turned
off the living-room lamp.
Before walking upstairs, I looked once more at the framed photograph.
Lizzie had been right.
It belonged there.
Not because it showed Kayla losing something.
Because it showed Jennifer and Lizzie claiming something.
Their history.
Their family.
Their truth.
For once, nobody else was allowed to rewrite it.
