People told me I was crazy for fighting for those children in court. Even my brother said that loving them was one thing, but raising ten alone was another story entirely. Maybe he was right. But I couldn’t let them lose the only parental figure they had left. So I learned to do everything myself: braid hair, cut the boys’ hair, organize lunchtime supervision, keep an eye on the inhalers, and figure out which child needed quiet time and which needed a cheese toastie cut into little stars. I didn’t replace Calla. I simply stayed.
