But my stomach twisted.
Danny was sixteen.
He had Down syndrome.
And although I loved him more than almost anyone in the world, I had spent months quietly fearing this exact moment.
Not because I thought Danny couldn’t make something meaningful.
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But my stomach twisted.
Danny was sixteen.
He had Down syndrome.
And although I loved him more than almost anyone in the world, I had spent months quietly fearing this exact moment.
Not because I thought Danny couldn’t make something meaningful.
I was only fifteen when they dressed me in white and convinced me I was the luckiest girl in the village. Everyone smiled at…