I didn’t open any of them.
Instead, I opened Facebook.
The social network I hardly ever used, filled with old contacts—friends from my book club, neighbors from my old suburb, distant cousins, high school classmates I found years ago.
Four hundred and thirty-seven friends who barely saw my posts because I never posted anything.
Until today.
I typed with trembling fingers.
After 3 years of caring for a family that made me invisible, I learned that self-love isn’t selfishness, it’s survival.
I hit post and closed the app.
I went down for breakfast.
My favorite breakfast.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, pouring me orange juice.
“Like I haven’t slept in years.”
“And what’s next now?”
I cut a piece of chilaquiles.
“Comes the legal part.”
At 8:00 sharp, I was at Megan’s office.
My niece greeted me with a strong hug and a cup of coffee.
