After years of loving my doll, I handed it over in perfect condition.
When my younger cousin grabbed it. The doll cried, "mama."
Tears hid in my throat.
I went home. Opened the door.
"Well, did you get rid of the doll?" Mother asked.
"Yes. I did.” Tears rolled down my cheeks.
A week later, I visited my cousin. My doll was lying floor without an arm.