"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." –Lauren, age 4

Spring was rounding the corner in San Diego, and everyone knows what that means. Flowers are blooming, the sun is shining brighter and more frequently, and it's the best time of year to throw out your old junk.

And that's exactly what was happening in the Bolton household.

"Troy! Can you come help me move this box?" Gabriella shouted down the hall, where Troy was assisting eight year old Lily-Anne rid the playroom of Barbie dolls and Linkin Logs, so they could transform the room into what would eventually be some sort of home theater or movie room.

"I'll be right there!" He responded, trying to figure out exactly how to get around the monstrous pile of junk in the middle of the room.

Moving through the hall toward his eldest daughter's room, one of the most difficult tasks of this whole process, he saw not one but three boxes that needed to be moved, "Are these being thrown out or donated?"

"The bottom two are old junk," Gabriella's hair was tied up high on her head in a messy knot, "Check with Lily if she wants any of the old clothes, whatever's leftover can be donated."

Troy bent at the knees and lifted the top box, clothes were heavier than you thought, "Hey Lil, come here for a second."

"What daddy?" Her head popped out of the door of the playroom.

"Why don't you come see if you want any of this," Troy unfolded the top of the box, revealing clothing that seemed to be two sizes too small for Harmony.

"Ooh," Lily-Anne drawled out and dumped the box upside down. Troy rubbed his temple with his thumb and forefinger.

"Did you have to dump out the whole thing?" Troy chuckled, watching her dig through the old clothes.

"Daddy, look at this," She held up an old sweatshirt. It was blue, had a large red heart painted on the middle, and red stripes around the sleeves. She slid it on, sleeves two inches too long and the bottom of the zipper hung down her legs.

Harmony strolled out of her room with a box and laughed, "Looks good Lil."

Lily-Anne was too naïve to catch her sarcasm, "Really?"

Troy watched as she slid up the sleeves and twirled around, their approximately two-year-old rescue dog bounding down the hall where Troy caught him, "What do you think Piano? Does it look good on Lily?"

The dog barked.

"Well, in that case," Troy nodded, "I think it looks great."

"Cool," She bounced down the hall to Harmony's room, "Look Mommy, I look just like Harmony!"

He could hear his wife laugh, "Yeah, you do sweetie."

Sometimes he wondered if she ever felt left out, separate from the rest of them, because of her desire to look like her sister. The whole wanting to fit in with the family thing, they'd been warned that sometimes adopted children feel like they don't fit in. They didn't love her any more any less than their own daughter, it was just a different type of love. Harmony would always be their first born, their 'experiment' as they liked to joke, and Lily would always be their baby, just like with every family of siblings. It was just like Harmony would always be special because she was their genetic daughter and Lily-Anne was special because they'd gotten a second chance. Harmony always considered Lily her sister, and likewise with Lily. Yet sometimes, someone would always feel left out and Troy was always wary, that as she'd get older, she'd be upset that her mother had given her up or that she didn't look like her family.

But then he'd see her, like right now, sitting in Gabriella's lap looking through an old photo album. Gabriella pointed at pictures and their little girl would scrunch her nose at her sister's baby picture, unable to picture her sister as a baby. That's when he'd get the reassurance that they were doing it right, raising their kids. Gabriella would wink at him and he'd wink back, knowing that Lily-Anne fit right in with their family, as their daughter.


Short and sweet? Bonus chapter for the night. I kind of forgot about for a while and found it while uploading the last chapter.

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