I used to think I understood every corner of my daughter’s world. After she was gone, that belief became the only thing I held onto.
I was wrong.
And I almost missed the moment that proved it.
Losing Lily at thirteen didn’t just hurt—it divided my life into two parts that could never be joined again. There was everything before her illness… and everything after her. The space she left behind wasn’t empty. It was heavy, constant, and everywhere.