Scars She Carries, Love She Deserves
They sat like that for a while, wrapped in the hush of a healing world.
Moments later, Lila came bounding toward them, cheeks flushed, a dandelion clutched tightly in each hand.
“For you, Mommy,” she said, holding one out with both pride and ceremony.
Elena took it with care, like it was made of glass. “Thank you, baby.”
“And one for Jack,” she added, thrusting the second flower at him.
Jack blinked. “I’ve never gotten a dandelion before.”
“Now you have,” Lila grinned, triumphant, and skipped away again with the grace only a six-year-old could manage.