asked Natalie if she wanted coffee. John cooked because I knew I would try to control every plate.
When Rose fussed, I stopped myself.
“Livia,” I asked, “do you want me to take her, or would you rather Mitchell?”
She looked at me.
Then she smiled a little.
“You can take her, Mom.”
Before she left, she hugged me.
Carefully.
But it was real.
I had spent almost a year searching for my daughter, only to learn she had been waiting for me to become safe enough to find her.
