Life in France was calm and fulfilling.
My daughter was admitted to the best children's hospital, where she received comprehensive rehabilitation therapy. Both her physical and psychological wounds were slowly healing.
When sunlight flooded the ward, she would hold a picture book and tell me stories in a gradually livelier tone.
I stayed by her side, watching the color return to her pale little face, and finally felt a trace of warmth fill my heart.
When her health improved, I enrolled her in a nearby language school.
Children adapt quickly. Before long, she could already hold simple conversations with other children in French with a soft, sweet accent, and at last she had the carefree smile that belonged to a girl her age.
I also went back to working in my field, joining a top biote
