Sophie clapped her hands. “Good one!”
“Your turn,” I said.
She picked up her own stone, squeezed her eyes shut, and whispered something I couldn’t hear.
Then she threw it with all her might.
It plopped into the water immediately, and she laughed.
“I think it heard me anyway,” she said confidently.
“I think so too.”
We stood there together, hand in hand, watching the ripples spread across the pond.
And in that moment—that quiet, ordinary, perfect moment—I finally let go of everything I’d been carrying.
The fear.
The anger.
The need to understand why.
It didn’t matter anymore.
All that mattered was this.
Sophie. The sunshine. The still water.
Home.
“Mama,” Sophie said, tugging my hand. “Can we go see Aunt Evelyn soon?”
“Absolutely. How about next weekend?”
“Yes!” She bounced on her toes. “Can we bring her flowers from our garden?”
“That’s a perfect idea.”
Sophie grinned and ran ahead toward the house, her laughter echoing across the field.
I followed slowly, drinking in the sight of her.
My daughter.
My light.
The reason I’d survived everything.
Behind me, the pond settled back into stillness.
The stone I’d thrown was somewhere at the bottom now, carrying my wish into the earth.
And I knew—I knew with absolute certainty—that it had already come true.
Sophie would always know she was loved.
Because I would spend every day of my life showing her.
