In the silence left by her parents' passing, the rejection from her own blood carved a wound no time could easily mend. Only her grandmother had offered shelter—not just of home, but of heart.
Yet, the memories of countless nights spent crying herself to sleep, feeling like a burden to her relatives who had turned their backs on her, still lingered.
However, the Thompsons had been different. They had welcomed her with open arms, treating her like one of their own.
Thea gazed at her grandma, noticing the subtle lines and wrinkles that time had gently etched on her face. Grandma Grace, sensing her gaze, looked up.
"What's on your mind, Thea?" Grandma Grace asked.
Thea's voice trembled with gratitude. "Thank you, Grandma."
Grandma Grace looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Whatever did I do to deserve thanks now?"
Thea's eyes shone with emotion. "Just for being here for me, for taking care of me. I don't say it enough."
