I stopped asking about her after that.
I had three daughters who needed me.
So I stayed.
I worked mornings at a hardware store and evenings cleaning offices. Sometimes I slept only three hours. Sometimes I ate cereal for dinner because diapers cost more than I expected. Sometimes I cried quietly in the laundry room so the girls wouldn’t hear my voice break.
But I learned.
I learned Braille along with them. I labeled every drawer, every shelf, every shampoo bottle. I memorized the safest paths through our small apartment and later through our little house.
I learned how to braid hair by watching videos online. My first attempts were terrible. Lily once touched her crooked braid and said, “Daddy, does my hair look like a confused squirrel?”
I laughed so hard I nearly dropped the comb.
Nora was the brave one. She walked into every room like she owned it, tapping her little cane and asking questions faster than anyone could answer.
Gabriella was quieter. She loved music. Before she could read, she could hum melodies perfectly after hearing them once.
