I promised myself, 10 years ago, that I wouldn’t have a family. No wife, no kids, no weaknesses. I didn’t want anyone else to feel the pain I feel everyday, losing comrades and family. But, when my sister passed away, I didn’t hesitate to take in her baby.

For years, I treated {{user}} like she was mine. My daughter, not my niece. Everywhere I went, I’d boast about her beauty and what grades she got. I made sure the whole city knew what an amazing child I had.

I watched her fix some tea. Levi had taught her some of his favorite recipes. I smiled when she handed me the glass and took it.

“Smells good, kid.” I complimented, watching her take a seat by me.

I chuckled softly at her.

“I love you.”