Every birthday, I still set that place for her, as if the simple act might somehow bring her back.
That evening, as I whispered a wish in the stillness of the kitchen, I had no idea that the answer had been waiting all along – tucked away in an old drawer.
After washing the dishes, I stumbled upon a birthday card I’d never seen before. It was from Karen, my daughter, filled with heartfelt apologies, words of love, and an address in Canada. My hands trembled as I read each line. She hadn’t cut me out of her life after all; the message had just never reached me. For the first time in years, something warm and alive stirred in my chest.
