When my mother passed, I thought I was simply inheriting her old lavender-scented house. But at the reading of her will, I discovered a shocking clause: I would only receive the inheritance if I became guardian to a twelve-year-old girl I’d never met—Violet. Confused and overwhelmed, I learned Violet had lived with my mother for two years. My partner, Steve, saw the situation as an opportunity for financial gain, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that my mother had done this for a reason. When I met Violet,
quiet and guarded, something in her eyes touched me. She called my mother “Mom Olivia.” My heart broke. Slowly, we began building a fragile bond. But Steve grew distant, cold. He demanded I return Violet. I chose Violet. We moved into a small rented room, away from Steve and his cruel mother. Life was hard, but real. When I decided to adopt Violet officially,