spent sleepless nights by her bedside. Later, I helped her get into college and supported her both financially and emotionally.

Now my adoptive daughter is thirty years old. All these years she has been by my side, but lately I noticed she had become distant, cold. I worried that maybe she was tired of taking care of me, that it was too much for her.

One evening she came home and said:

— Pack your things. For now, just the essentials.

I was confused:

— Where are we going?