I was seven when my parents died. My sister Amelia was only 21, with her whole future ahead of her—yet she gave it all up to raise me. She worked nonstop, never dated, never built a life of her own. She became my mother, my protector, my home.
Years later, after I pushed her away, I learned the truth. Amelia hadn’t fallen apart—she’d opened her heart again. She was fostering a little girl who’d lost her parents, just like we did.
My sister didn’t lose her life to sacrifice.
She rebuilt it through love. 💛
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