Chapter 11. Loss

~Stuart~

I stand at the bottom of the stairs in the packhouse, nervous as hell. I’ve been away; I’ve been grieving the loss of my daughter. The problem is that I’ve neglected the daughter I do have and my grandson. So many nights I spent crying over my lost child, and so many mornings I couldn’t pull myself out of bed.

I have a void in my heart, and I don’t know if it will ever go away. If I’m being honest, I’m grieving for two of my daughters. Adela is dead, and Aida is gone. Deep down, I know I will never have that bond with Aida again. I’m not sure what her circumstances are, but I’m positive that they won’t lead her back to me.

It’s been so painful replaying their childhood. I remember their first steps and their first words. I remember when they were born and holding them in my arms. The first time they put me on my ass is a memory I could never forget. I’ve spent days reliving their lives and wishing I had more time. The only thing missing in those memori