I WOKE UP TO FIND MY DOG STARING AT ME—AND THEN I SAW WHAT WAS UNDER THE BED (8 of 10)

But I told Nora. Because it was her right to know.

She didn’t say much. Just went quiet.

A week later, she asked to meet her mom. So we arranged it.

The meeting was slow, tense. But real. Her mom cried. Nora didn’t. Not right away.

But a few days later, she started writing her mom letters. Then phone calls. Then visits.

Eventually, after months of cautious steps, she moved back in with her mom.

The house felt quieter. Emptier.

Murphy kept pacing into her room at night, looking confused. I knew how he felt.

But the story doesn’t end there.

A year after she left, I got an envelope in the mail. Inside was a photo of Nora, now taller, holding a certificate from her school—“Student of the Year.”

The note read, “Thank you for believing in me when no one else did. Love, Nora.”