Adrian
I stare at the pictures on the wall. Many of them are from my childhood, one that I was very lucky enough to share with Stella and Clara. We are all smiling in a few of them, standing in front of a white picket fence as butterflies fly around our heads.
There are a few pictures of my mother and I scattered across the wall. They span over the course of the past decade, leading up to the moment when Stella, my mother, and I all went to the beach resort together.
The picture of us standing by the tide pools remains closest to my office and is in a spot where it has the most visibility around the house. I had to fight the urge to not make any more copies, to frame it, and then put it into every single room that I own.
It is the one picture where my family — my true family — were all
