Epilogue
A year later, I found her in the nursery.
Sunlight on her face.
Our son asleep in her arms.
She looked up at me—
And smiled.
Not afraid.
Not small.
Not broken.
Just… whole.
And I finally understood:
They tried to convince her that softness was weakness.
But they were wrong.
Because it takes unimaginable strength to stay kind…
