What I feel, mostly, is a strange grief on their behalf.

Because the tragedy of that page was never Maya’s; she was fine, she was always going to be fine, she was going to be loved and to flourish one way or another because that is who she is.

The tragedy belonged to the twenty families who held her file and never met her, who let a piece of paper stand between them and a person, and who therefore never got to know the child I get to call my daughter.

They did not miss a burden.