“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.
And for once, walking to our separate cars, we were three women who’d chosen to be there. That’s more than blood gives you sometimes. lunch with the steps leana lovings
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Mia snorted, and I laughed, and Leana smiled—genuine, not curated. We weren’t a real family, not in the blood sense. But sitting there, watching her wave off the waiter’s dessert menu (“we’ll share the chocolate thing, obviously”), I realized: steps don’t have to fit perfectly. They just have to hold. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said