Her school assigned a family-history project.

I dreaded it.

I imagined an awkward explanation of divorce, intercepted mail, and years of absence printed beside other children’s cheerful family trees.

Instead, June drew three circles.

One contained the people who lived with her.

One contained people who cared for her regularly.

The third contained relatives and family friends she was still learning about.

“It’s not a tree,” she told her teacher.