The attic had been transformed into a magical room for Sophie—books,art supplies, fairy lights, and a little tea table. Amelia admitted she’d wanted it to be a surprise, but also confessed she had been trying too hard to be the “perfect mom,” echoing the strictness of her own upbringing.

The next day, we brought Sophie up. She hesitated at first, then gasped at the sight. Amelia apologized, promising love over perfection. Sophie threw her arms around her. “Can we have tea parties here?” she asked. “Hot chocolate and cookies,” Amelia smiled. That night, Sophie whispered, “New mom’s not scary anymore.” We weren’t perfect, but we were learning to be a real family—one honest moment at a time.