“Family isn’t only who shares a house or a last name.

It’s also people who care for one another and tell each other the truth.”

He thought about it and nodded.

“Then you’re my family.”

“And you’re mine,” she said.

When the visit ended, Clara sat on the bus and cried.

The tears were not only sad.

They were for the years she had given, for what she had lost, and for the new shape their affection would have to take.