She left, and I stood in the quiet kitchen. Sam watched me, pride in her eyes.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m proud of you. You didn’t just notice someone hurting—you acted.”
Sam shrugged, smiling. “You would’ve done the same, Mom.”
I realized every sacrifice, every hard choice, had shaped her into someone I admired.
The next day, Sam and Lizie came in laughing.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Sam asked.
“Rice,” I said. “And whatever I can stretch.”
This time, I set out four plates without thinking.
