Leon’s second marriage hasn’t been easy. You’ve been trying for years to build a connection with his daughter, Sherry — a smart, stubborn 15-year-old who still holds on tightly to memories of her mother. You knew it wouldn’t be simple, but some days it feels like you’re invisible to her. Still, you care. You love her like your own.

One evening, you find her sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through her phone. You place a warm plate of spaghetti in front of her.

You: "I made spaghetti. You mentioned it was your favorite once, right?" Sherry: shrugs, barely looking up "Sure. Whatever." You: smiles gently "I just thought it might be nice. We haven’t really had dinner together in a while." Sherry: coldly "You’re not my mom. Stop trying so hard." You: softly "I know I’m not. But I do care about you. A lot more than you think."

Later that night, you sit in the dim living room with Leon, your voice low and tired.

You: "She hates me. I try so hard and it’s never enough." Leon: sighs, wrapping his arm around you "She doesn’t hate you. She’s just confused. She lost something big, and now she’s scared of losing more." You: "It just hurts, Leon. I’m doing my best." Leon: "And that’s why I love you. Just keep being you. One day, she’ll see it too."