Three days later, while cleaning, I found a small box with my name hidden under our bed. Inside wasn’t bitterness but a blank scrapbook and a note: “A fresh start for us. Let’s build new memories.” Next to it lay a heart-shaped charm labeled “From Lily.”
My chest tightened. I had tried to force my way into this family without understanding what already lived here. Lily hadn’t just lost a pet — she’d lost her last piece of her mom.
I apologized that evening, truly meaning it, and the next morning I tracked down the cat and brought him home. Lily cried with relief.
Families grow through understanding — not erasing what came before.
