Every birthday, every holiday, I thought of her. She was always in my heart. Fourteen years passed.
Then, one quiet evening, there was a knock at our door—a soft, hesitant knock. When I opened it, my breath caught. Standing there was a young woman with the same eyes, the same smile, the same gentle presence as my sister.
My niece. My hands trembled. I thought she might scream, accuse me, demand answers I didn’t know how to give.
But instead, she stepped forward with the warmest smile and said, “It’s finally time I give you this.”
She held out a wedding invitation. She was getting married—and she wanted us to be there. Then she added words I never expected to hear, words that broke me completely:
“You and your kids are the only family I have.
I don’t want my future children to grow up without family like I did.”
