She looked down.
“Mom cries at night.”
My heart tightened.
“She says she did something terrible to you a long time ago.”
I said nothing.
Then Sophie reached under her pillow and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I made a list.”
I opened it.
The list wasn’t about expensive gifts.
It said:
Dancing in the kitchen.
Wearing lipstick.
Having coffee with a friend.
Laughing so hard she snorts.
Playing music again.
I looked at Sophie.
“These are your wishes for your mom?”
She nodded.
“Everybody asks what I want. Nobody asks what she wants anymore.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“She only lives for me now.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then she whispered, “Please make her remember how to be happy.”
That became the most important wish I’d ever been asked to grant.
The next morning, I arrived with two coffees.
Rebecca immediately looked suspicious.
“What are you doing?”
