Maya turned to Harry.
He stepped back.
No one moved to her side.
Then Jerome carefully lifted the microphone. “I think it’s time for the father-daughter dance.”
“You’re humiliating me.”
Adele took my hand. “You can stop carrying it now.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Then let us help,” Shannon said.
That’s when I broke down.
For 15 years, I believed strength meant carrying it all alone.
That night, my daughters taught me strength could come with six sets of hands.