“Do you know anyone just like me?” Annabella asked, holding my hand in her smaller one and staring up at me through huge hazel eyes. She pushed her tongue between her missing front tooth.
“What do you mean?” I asked, guiding her toward the playroom with the other kids during work the next day.
“Someone who doesn’t have a mommy and daddy?”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I held them back. “I don’t have a mommy and daddy.” I crouched down in front of her and shook away my thoughts of them. That was not what she had asked. I took her hands. “But one of my really great friends grew up without a mommy and daddy. He is just like you.”
“Really?” she asked, lips turned into a frown.
“Really,” I said.
“Does he have a lot of friends?”
“I—” I paused. “Why?”
“Toni at school says I won’t ever h
