Ms. Pearson across the street gave me a small nod—awkward, but real.
By sunset, I sat on the steps with Mrs. Higgins’ letter in my lap, feeling like the entire street had shifted around me.
I let it ring.
When the porch fell quiet again, I laid out the deed and Mrs. Higgins’ note on my lap. My daughter kicked, and I rested my hand over her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Higgins,” I whispered into the dusk. “I’ll pay it forward. I promise.”
A warm breeze moved through the leaves above. I smiled through tears and looked down at my belly.
“We made it,” I whispered. “We’re home, baby girl. And I know your name now.”
Mabel.
