“The hospital told me my daughter died shortly after birth,” she whispered softly. “But they never allowed me to see her body.”
For a moment, I just stared at her.
The pain in her eyes didn’t look fresh. It looked old. Like something life had forced her to carry for so long that she had simply learned how to live with it.
“I… I’m so sorry,” I said quietly, and I genuinely meant it. There was something heartbreaking about the way her voice trembled despite how elegant and composed she tried to remain. “That’s a horrible thing for anyone to go through.”
A faint smile touched her lips, but it disappeared quickly.
“It was a long time ago,” she replied gently. “But I don’t think a mother ever truly forgets a pain like that.”
Something uncomfortable shifted inside my chest after she said t
