Part 1: The Morning My Dog Wouldn’t Stop Scratching at the Door

evening, I walked into Lily’s room without stopping at the doorway. I picked up the bracelet she had been making for me, tying it around my wrist even though it barely fit. I sat at her desk and opened her sketchbook.

The sunflower smiled up at me, unfinished but bright.

And for the first time, I smiled back.

That night, I sat by the window with the yellow continue reading …