Dandelion

Dandelion.

That was her name.

The name of her precious daughter.

She'd been born in this house, after a long, complicated birthing, a newly-born, helpless child who needed love and support.

And she'd given those to her.

She'd grown up into a happy little girl with flowers in her hair, as she sang and danced and twirled.

A perfect girl with a perfect life.

And even as her daughter strayed away from her, she was always in her heart, always close to her, even as her life became empty and bleak.

And her dandelion would never walk those halls again.

No, she knew, that her daughter had never walked those halls, had never had flowers in her hair, had never sang or danced or twirled.

She never had done so.