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Eight Silent Years
“When did you realize who she was?” Grant managed to ask.
Grant remembered that mark—Lily had spent half her childhood trying to cover it, then eventually learned to see it as something unique.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked, voice cracking.
“Because I had no right,” she whispered. “You and your wife gave her a life I never could. I didn’t want to disrupt that. I only wanted… to be near her. To see her smile. To know she was safe.”
Grant wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming.
“For eight years,” Elena continued, “I watched her grow. I celebrated her birthdays from the kitchen. I made her favorite snacks. I listened to her laugh. I watched her draw on the patio. I tried to be grateful for every second, even if she never knew who I was.”
Her voice trembled.
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