The pressure behind Cassie’s chest pushed higher, wedging like a swelling knot at the base of her throat. Tears burned along the bridge of her nose. “I want to,” she whispered. “I see them laughing. How easily they joke with each other and support one another.” She swallowed. Or tried to. “What if I don’t fit in? What if I let go, and they find out I’m not the person they thought I was?”

A soft, sad smile curved her aunt’s lips. “Oh, sweet girl.” She tenderly cupped the side of Cassie’s face. “Are we talking about Kir’s family? Or are we talking about yours?”

Two gently spoken questions, but they pierced straight to the heart of her. Wedged through the cracks Kir had started and pried past all the stones of disappointment she’d carried around for years. Was it really that simple? Was she holding herself apart from people she genuinely liked and wanted to be with based on the childlike need to fit in with the family she’d been born to?

A tear slipped free and spilled down her cheek. Then another. And another. With each one, more weight slipped free, and the knot inside her throat loosened. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “What kind of daughter am I? They’re my blood. They raised me. But being with them—even talking to them—makes me feel so inadequate. Out of place.”

“But being here?”

Her body shook on a half laugh, half cry as the truth came out. “Feels nice. A relief. Light and free. And then, as soon as I realize it, I feel guilty that I can’t feel the same thing with my own family.”

“It feels like you’re being disloyal.”

“Yes!”

“Oh, kiddo.” Frieda sighed and pulled her in for another hug. Stroked her back and held her while the tears and sobs ran free. A complete and utter ugly cry, the likes of which she hadn’t had since she was a preteen.

Only when the tears slowed did Frieda speak again, still holding her tight. “There are two kinds of family in this world, Cassie. Those we’re born into and those we choose. We can’t change who our parents are, or what we like and dislike, but we can choose happiness. Taking that step doesn’t make you disloyal. It makes you healthy.”

A ragged and somewhat broken chuckle slipped free as Cassie pulled from her aunt’s embrace. “I’m not sure Mom and Dad would agree with you.”

“Well, they don’t have to agree with me. Just because they’ve both got PhD’s doesn’t mean they know everything. Accept them for who they are. Love them as they are. Then move on and make yourself happy. That’s all any of us can do.”

Cassie swiped her cheeks with the back of one hand and sniffled, the lightness in the wake of her crying jag blending with an awkward amount of mortification. “How’d you get so smart about this stuff, anyway? You sure you don’t have a counseling degree somewhere you’re not telling me about?”