I couldn’t afford to buy my daughter a new talking doll for her birthday, so I got a great second-hand one instead. But when the doll uttered the chilling words “You promised to stay” in my mother’s voice, it brought me face-to-face with a devastating family secret.
I sat at the kitchen table, counting out small bills and coins from the little savings tin I kept tucked away in the cupboard. The tin felt lighter than I’d hoped, but that wasn’t really a surprise.
What I needed was the kind of money I hadn’t seen since David left.
A woman counting out small change | Source: Midjourney
My fingers fumbled over the coins, hoping I’d somehow miscounted. But no… twenty-three dollars and seventy-two cents. That was all there was. It was nowhere near enough for the talking doll Clara had been begging for.
A seven-year-old’s dreams shouldn’t cost this much, but they do. It’s not even about the doll, but the big grin that would light up her face when she saw it.
A mother should be able to give her child that. I was failing her.
A woman staring sadly into the distance | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, slumping back in my chair, and stared at the pile of change like it might rearrange itself if I stared hard enough.
“This won’t work,” I muttered, shaking my head.
My gaze drifted over to the fridge, where I’d pinned Clara’s drawing of us as stick figures holding hands under a blue sky. Her birthday was in two days and I couldn’t let her down, not again.
That’s when I remembered.