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hurried. Her mother’s hugs became lighter, as if she were already thinking about the next task waiting for her.
One night, Ivy heard a conversation that confirmed what her heart already knew. Behind a closed door, voices floated through the walls, neither angry nor loud, but decisive in a way that chilled her.
Donnie mentioned that he hadn’t planned
for children. He made it clear that he felt differently about the child who shared his last name. A moment later, her mother’s phone rang.
Ivy recognized her father’s voice, distant through the speaker, explaining that including her in his home no longer fit with his family’s routine.
By morning, her parents had agreed on a solution. They packed Ivy’s