I went to the store for eggs and quiet—but a stranger told me they’d found my daughter.That would’ve been heartwarming… if I had one.ust before that, I watched a woman scratch a car with her keys. I looked away. I always do. I don’t get involved. I stay small. Quiet. Unnoticed.Inside the store, under too-bright lights, a worker stared at me like I’d walked in dragging something behind me. Then: “Ma’am! Wait! We found your daughter!”

She led me to a back room. There sat Dora—my niece—with a sparkly headband and a red lollipop.“Mommy!” she shouted, hugging my legs.I couldn’t speak. I didn’t correct her. I just followed her home.When I called Lily, she didn’t even sound surprised. “Just hang out with Dora. I’ll be late.”Dora showed me her world: frayed carpet turned pirate island, dolls with full histories.

Later, I asked, “Why’d you go to the store?”“I ran away,” she said. “You always shop on Saturdays. I wanted to find you.”But why me?”I get lonely. Mama’s always busy.”My throat tightened.Why are you always alone?” she asked.I’m scared,” I admitted. “Of being wrong. Of not being liked.”She shrugged. “You’re not a dollar.”That night, when Lily got home, I told her the truth: Dora ran away to find someone who cared.You’re different,” Lily said.No. I’m just done hiding.”As I tucked Dora in, she whispered, “You’d make a good mommy.”Maybe not a mother.But maybe… someone who finally matters.