On Emily’s tenth birthday, Clara watched her blow out candles surrounded by classmates from school, the kitchen full of balloons and paper hats. Emily’s wish had been simple—“I hope Mom never gets sick”—and Clara had excused herself to the sink, blinking back tears.
By fourteen, Emily was restless, scribbling poems in her notebooks, testing boundaries with slammed doors and sharp words. But when Clara found her crying quietly over a fight with friends, Emily still climbed into her lap as if she were small again. Moments like those reminded Clara how fiercely they needed one another.