Miranda had dark hair and a nose identical to Lila's. She was beautiful, with those wrinkles and that grumpy look of newborns.
“We did well,” Lila said through tears.
For five years, we made it work. Lila got a better job. I worked extra shifts whenever Miranda needed new shoes or her birthday was coming up
We discovered how to be a family… the three of us against a world that never promised us anything.
Miranda called me "Aunt Anna" and would climb onto my lap during movie nights. She'd fall asleep on my shoulder, drooling on my shirt, and I'd carry her to bed thinking that maybe this was what being happy felt like.
Then that fateful day arrived.
Lila was driving to work when a delivery truck ran a red light. The impact killed her instantly. The officer who told me said, “She didn’t suffer,” as if that would help me.
Miranda was five years old. She kept asking when her mother would return.
“I’m not going anywhere, honey,” I promised her. “You’re stuck with me.”
She was six years old when the judge signed the papers. That night I sat her down and explained it to her as simply as possible.
“You know I’m not your biological mother, right?”
She nodded, playing with the edge of her blanket.
“But now I’m your mom. Legally. Officially. That means I’m going to take care of you forever, if that’s okay with you.”
She looked at me with Lila's eyes. "Forever?"
"Forever".
She threw herself into my arms. “So can I call you 'Mom'?”
“Yes!” I picked her up in my arms and cried.
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