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“They said some cells looked wrong. They mentioned leukemia. They wanted more tests.”
My stomach lurched.
“Broke. No support. Every appointment meant lost wages.
Bills piled up. They talked about long-term treatment like I had a magical wallet.”
“So you stopped taking her,” I said quietly.
“She looked fine,” the woman snapped. “She wasn’t sick.
Not then. I told myself they were exaggerating.”
“And then you put her up for adoption,” Daniel said.
“I thought it was better for her,” she said. “She’d get a stable home.
Insurance. People who could deal with this. If I told them about the tests, no one would take her.
“You never told the agency? The court? Anyone?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“If they knew, she’d stay in the system. I rolled the dice.”
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