Riley doesn’t own a dress like that, and even if she did, she’s with Linda and her brothers on the other side of the city.
There’s only one possibility.
Paisley.
She’s just as perfect as I always imagined.
Linda has kept me updated on her life all these years—sending countless photos, telling me how much she’s grown—but nothing compares to seeing her in person. I can barely believe it’s real.
But she doesn’t look exactly like in the latest photos. Paisley is pale and thinner than I expected, the toll of her heart condition visible in her fragile body.
My heart clenches for my daughter, and the ache only deepens when she looks up at me with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip.
— I can’t find my daddy.
I kneel to her level, brushing her soft cheek with my fingers.
— Don’t worry, lit
