My eyes wash with intense sorrow at the same age as Tia would have been, and I have to turn my back on her to blink it away. I am churning inside at what she said and sympathizing with the loss and guilt for letting down our babies and not protecting them.

"I'm sorry." The vibration of emotion in my voice matches hers, and there's a long silent moment between us before I feel her tap me on the shoulder, and I jump. Unaware she had even walked over to me. She doesn't seem to linger in the past of hurtful memories as I do, and she's already bright-eyed and...