So I stayed. I began as Uncle Elias. Somewhere along the way, I became Dad without realizing it.
For 22 years, I packed lunches, braided hair badly, worked double shifts, sat through fevers, science fairs, heartbreak, and three phases when all three resented me.
I missed weddings. Vacations. The chance to build a family of my own. Not because they asked me to.
Because someone had to stay. By graduation day, gray streaked my beard, my knee ached, and a cheap camera shook in my hand.
The girls crossed the college stage one after another. Maya. Elise. Nora.
Triplets, but never copies. Maya cried before her name was called. Elise waved at me like she was still eight.
