When I went to check on Amelia, she was sitting up in bed, tears running down her face.
“Mommy left?” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. “Baby, your mother is going through something right now and needs some time away. She’ll be back soon.”
But she didn’t come back.
Not that night. Not that week. Not ever.
It became just the two of us. And while Amelia cried every night for nearly a year, we eventually learned to breathe again. To live again. To build a new rhythm.
She became the center of my world. My purpose. My joy.
Meanwhile, Molly remained silent. No calls. No messages.
Instead, her social media exploded with photos—the life she felt she’d missed: parties, bars, trips, and reunions with her sorority sisters.
Each picture stung. How could she abandon her child to gain a freedom that no longer fit her life? How could she celebrate while Amelia cried for her?
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