When tragedy struck and my sister’s little girl was left alone, I wanted nothing more than to bring her home. But fear and hesitation from my husband tore that dream apart, and she entered foster care while I carried silent guilt for years. Every birthday, every passing season, I thought of her — the niece I couldn’t save, the child who should’ve been ours. Regret became my shadow, a constant reminder of the moment I didn’t fight hard enough.
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