She sings in the kitchen sometimes. She joined a yoga class. She even let me dye the tips of my hair purple — “just a little,” she warned.
But the best part?
She has started to laugh again. Real laughter, just like she used to when Dad was here, before the silence swallowed her whole.
As for me, I’ve learned that sometimes adults break too. And sometimes, kids have to be the ones to say this is enough.
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