“Listen, we decided that your daughter is better off without you.”
Sarah’s words felt like a slap to the face. My breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought I might collapse.
“What?” My voice came out in a whisper.
She crossed her arms, standing in the doorway like a gatekeeper to my own child. “Nathan and I believe it’s best if Hazel grows up in a *stable* home. No drama, no… baggage.” Her eyes flicked over me—thin, pale, still recovering. “We don’t want to confuse her.”
I felt the burn of hot tears, but I swallowed them down. “She’s *my daughter.* You *can’t* keep her from me!”
Sarah sighed, shaking her head. “Look, you had your chance, but you disappeared. Nathan did what was best for her.”
“I *had cancer!*” I snapped, my voice shaking. “He abandoned me when I needed him the most!”
She shrugged. “And now Hazel doesn’t even talk about you. She’s happy. We’re her family now.”
Something inside me cracked.
For years, I had fought. Not just against cancer, but against the crushing loneliness, the rejection, the agony of losing my husband and child in the same breath. I had survived, telling myself that one day, I would get Hazel back. That she would run into my arms, knowing I never *chose* to leave her.
And now, they were trying to erase me.
No. I *would not* let them.
I straightened, my exhaustion replaced by a new, burning determination. “I’ll see my daughter, Sarah. Whether you or Nathan like it or not.”
She smirked. “And how do you plan to do that?”
I met her gaze, steel in my voice.
“I’ll see you in court.”