My phone buzzed on the nightstand, a text from Jenna asking if I'd be at the bakery tomorrow. Such a normal, everyday thing. But it struck me suddenly how many normal, everyday things I now had in my life. A job. Friends. A dog who followed me from room to room like I was the center of her universe.
I had people who noticed when I was quiet. Who celebrated when I succeeded. Who didn't disappear when things got hard.
I texted Jenna back:
Definitely. I want to try those lemon scones again
then set my phone down and stared at the cork board above my desk. It was covered with photos I'd taken, ticket stubs from movies with Drew and Elyse, the employeeschedule from the bakery. Evidence of a life being built, not just survived.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Come in," I called, and Aunt Elyse peeked her head in.
"Just checking to see if you're okay," she said. "That was a big conversation downstairs."
I nodded, suddenly fighting back tears I hadn't realized were so close to the surface.
She must have noticed, because she crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed, careful to leave a little space between us. Like Paige, she never crowded me, another thing I loved about her.
"It's okay if you need time to think about it," she said. "Or if you have questions. Or concerns. Or anything, really."
I took a deep breath. "What if my mom comes back?"
It was the question that had been lurking at the edges of my mind. Because despite everything—the missed birthdays and broken promises, despite the current silence—a small part of me was still waiting. Still hoping.
Aunt Elyse nodded, understanding in her eyes. "If your mom comes back and she's healthy and able to maintain a relationship with you, we'll figure it out together. This adoption, if it's what you want, doesn't erase her. It just gives you more people who are legally and emotionally committed to you."
"More people legally required to listen to my terrible taste in music," I joked weakly.
She smiled. "That's the primary benefit, yes."
I fidgeted with Eden's ear, running the soft fur between my fingers. "I do want it," I admitted quietly. "To be adopted. To be your daughter. I just?—"
"You don't want to betray your mom," she finished for me.
I nodded, relieved that she understood without me having to explain.
"Holly, the capacity to love isn't finite. It's not a pie with onlyso many slices to go around. Your love for your mom, that will always be there. And it doesn't take anything away from what you feel for us, or what we feel for you."
Something loosened in my chest at her words. Like a knot I'd been carrying had finally come undone.
"When I was little," I said slowly, "before things got really bad, my Mom used to tell me that no matter what happened, I would always be her daughter. That it was like a permanent marker—it couldn't be erased."
Aunt Elyse nodded, waiting for me to continue.
"I think I'm afraid that if I became your daughter, I'd be erasing that. Like I'd be admitting she's never coming back." I wiped at a tear that had escaped down my cheek. "But that's not how it works, is it?"
"No," Aunt Elyse said gently. "It's more like... adding. Not replacing."
I thought about my photography class, about multiple exposures, two images layered over each other, creating something new while preserving the originals.
"I want to be your daughter," I said, the words coming easier now. "Yours and Uncle Drew's. For real. Permanently."
Aunt Elyse's eyes filled with tears, but her smile was radiant. "We want that too. So much."
She opened her arms, and I leaned into them, letting myself be held. Eden, not wanting to be left out, squirmed between us, making us both laugh.
"Does this mean I get to redecorate my room again?" I asked, thinking of all the ideas I'd been suppressing. The wall of floating shelves for my photography equipment. The dark room I wanted to set up in the spare closet.
