The sign outside read: Merinda’s.
I still worked hard. I still woke up early. I still remembered where I came from.
But now, I carried something different.
Hope.
On opening day, I wore the necklace.
Not to sell.
Not to survive.
But to remember.
When Charles walked in and saw the name above the door, he stopped.
Tears filled his eyes.
“You look like her,” he said.
I touched the necklace and smiled softly.
