I drove to her grave, brought white roses, and knelt beside the simple headstone. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered through tears. “I wish I’d had the chance to know you.”
Then, a voice behind me said softly, “Marla?”
I turned to see an older woman standing there, hand to her chest. “You look just like her,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m Tanya — your mother’s sister.”
And just like that, I found what I never expected — a piece of the family I thought I’d lost forever.
Because sometimes, even when the truth hurts, it sets you free.
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