Page 4 — “I’m Sorry, Mommy.” The Words That Shattered Me.
When they brought me to her, my body didn’t move at first.
I was standing, but I wasn’t functional.
Olivia looked tiny in the hospital bed.
Dirt streaked her face.
Scratches marked her arms.
But it was her eyes that broke me.
Hollow.
Like someone had turned the lights off inside her.
She whispered, “Mommy?”
Then, the part I will never forgive:
