It should have been a boy. A boy still had a chance. It only made sense to be that way. Her innocence robbed from her without warning, by a force bigger than her, while her kind, loving fiancé had no idea about what was happening, the shame of carrying a child out of wedlock… it simply had to be a boy.
But a girl… She held her daughter in her arms, overwhelmed by an unknown wonderful warmth, torn apart by feelings she didn’t know anyone could experience. She cleaned up the baby and wrapped her in a warm towel, and as she held her tight at her bosom, she could feel and see it all. The girl’s life, her painful, hopeless, pointless, tortured fate… her daughter’s was her own, her mother’s… the one of all women who came before them, who would come after. Worse even, her daughter had no father, no home, nothing. No chance. She could bare her own past, now that she had no choice but to do so; but she couldn’t bare her daughter’s future. Nobody deserved something like that.
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