“If we do this, we’ll be in our 70s by the time she’s grown.”
“And there’s money, energy, school, college,” he added.
“I know,” I said again.
After a long silence he said, “Do you want to meet her? Just meet her. No promises.”
Two days later we walked into the children’s home.
A social worker led us to a playroom.
“She knows she’s meeting visitors,” the social worker said. “We didn’t tell her more. We try not to build expectations we can’t meet.”
In the playroom, Lily sat at a small table, coloring carefully inside the lines.
Her dress was a little too big, like it had been passed down too many times.
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