Rina would never spend one morning of her life being told her grief was an inconvenience or her needs were a burden or her worth was up for a vote.

I would see to that for as long as I drew breath, and Niko’s steady dark eyes would go on looking out at the world from her small face long after I was gone, still taking notes, still here.

The evening came down soft and green over the yard.

I rocked my daughter, and I let the last of it go.

THE END.