Chapter 12
I'm Sofia.
The youngest daughter.
I was six years old when everything happened.
I don't remember as much as Valeria does.
But I remember the feelings.
The fear.
The sadness.
The love.
I remember my mother.
Faintly.
Like a dream.
I remember her holding me.
I remember her voice.
I remember the rabbit she gave me.
Mr. Floppy.
I still have him.
He's old and worn now.
But he's still my most prized possession.
I remember being sad when Mommy died.
I didn't understand where she'd gone.
I kept asking when she'd come back.
Nobody could give me an answer.
I remember Marisol coming.
She was nice.
She made me cookies.
She read me stories.
She didn't get mad when I cried for Mommy.
She just held me.
I loved her immediately.
She was safe.
She was warm.
She was there.
I remember Chloe.
I remember being scared of her.
She was tall.
And loud.
And mean.
When Daddy wasn't around, she'd yell at me.
She'd take my things.
She'd grab my arm.
It hurt.
But I didn't tell Daddy.
I was scared.
Chloe said if I told, she'd make Marisol go away.
And I couldn't let that happen.
Marisol was the only one who protected me.
The only one who made me feel safe.
I remember the day Daddy came home.
The day he saw everything.
I was so happy.
And so scared.
I thought Chloe would hurt us.
But Daddy stopped her.
He was my hero.
I remember the letter in my backpack.
The one Chloe sent.
Telling me to say Marisol was mean.
Telling me to lie.
I didn't understand it all.
But I knew it was wrong.
I gave it to Marisol.
Because I trusted her.
I remember when Marisol was kidnapped.
I was so scared.
I thought I'd never see her again.
I cried and cried.
But Daddy brought her back.
He was my hero again.
I remember the court case.
I was too young to understand most of it.
But I knew we won.
I knew Chloe was gone forever.
I remember when we found out Chloe had killed Mommy.
I was sad.
But I was also too young to really understand.
I just knew the bad woman had done something very bad.
And now she was gone.
And we were safe.
I remember when Daddy and Marisol got married.
It was the happiest day of my life.
Marisol was my mommy now.
Not instead of Mommy Elena.
But in addition to her.
I had two mommies.
One in heaven.
One on earth.
And both loved me very much.
I grew up.
I became a social worker.
I work with children who've been abused.
Children who are scared.
Children who need someone to protect them.
I know what that's like.
I know what it's like to be scared.
To feel alone.
To feel like nobody cares.
And I want to be the person who helps them.
The person who protects them.
The person who makes them feel safe again.
Just like Marisol did for me.
I never got married.
I never had children of my own.
But I have hundreds of children.
The kids I work with.
My niece and nephew.
My brother and sister.
My family.
I'm happy.
Truly happy.
I have a good life.
A meaningful life.
And I owe it all to two women.
My mother Elena.
Who gave me life.
Who loved me.
Who watches over me.
And my mother Marisol.
Who protected me.
Who raised me.
Who loved me as her own.
I am who I am because of them.
And I'm grateful.
Every single day.
I go to the vineyard every weekend.
I work with the kids from the city.
I bring them there.
To run in the vines.
To swim in the pool.
To look at the stars.
To feel safe.
To feel loved.
To feel like they belong.
It's my way of giving back.
My way of honoring both my mothers.
And I know they're proud.
I know they're watching.
And I know they're smiling.
If you're a child who's being hurt.
Who's scared.
Who feels alone.
I want you to listen to me.
It's not your fault.
You don't deserve to be hurt.
You deserve to be loved.
To be safe.
To be happy.
And there are people who can help you.
People who will protect you.
People who will love you.
You just have to be brave enough to ask.
May you like
And things will get better.
I promise.
