“Then call them. Book the earliest date.”
My husband stared at me.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
The boy’s fingers tightened around mine.
Standing there beside his bed, surrounded by drawings and a box of tiny paper stars, something inside me finally shifted.
Kindness isn’t about DNA.
It isn’t about how long someone has been in your life.
It’s about showing up when it really counts.
paper stars through pain and hope—to teach me that.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
