Harper and I spent most of our days in classes, our minds and bodies consumed by the intricate and demanding art of ballet. Since my adoption, the majority of our focus has been on improving our technique and mastering new movements and positions, determined to advance through the levels.

At home, we would spend our evenings and weekends tirelessly practicing, pushing our bodies to the brink of exhaustion in pursuit of perfection. We are determined to prove ourselves, to show our instructors and the school's mistress that we’re worthy of the time and attention they spend on us.

For us, ballet was more than just a passion; it was a way of life. Every muscle in our body worked in harmony, every leap and turn a symphony of grace and strength. It demanded our full attention, and we willingly gave it. It was in those moments, lost in the music and movement, that I felt truly at peace. My lost past is being overwritten by a future full of possibility. In ballet, I’ve found solace, and along with Harper, we’ve found our purpose, and we would stop at nothing to achieve our dreams.

One morning, after a particularly restless night, I stumbled into the kitchen feeling like a zombie. In my groggy state, I accidentally referred to Sandy as “Mom.” It was a moment of realization for me, as I had been rather obstinate about it until then. However, seeing the radiant smile that lit up Sandy's face in response, I didn’t have it in me to continue to refuse her. It was a small gesture, but it clearly meant the world to her. Yes, Sandy and Liam loved me unconditionally, and in return, I care deeply for them as my parents. Calling Liam “Dad” felt like a natural extension of calling Sandy “Mom.”