My dad pulls me into a bear hug, and I squeal like a child as he raises me off the floor and puts me back down. “Good to see you, Panda.” Panda has been my dad’s pet name for me since the day the CPS worker dropped me off at their home. They had put a stuffed panda on my pillow, and when I’d told them it was my favorite animal, they took it as a sign that we were meant to be a family. In reality, I preferred rabbits. Still, I learned to love pandas. They were gifted to me by my father after every business trip. Quickly, a collection began to grow. Snow globes, hats, shirts, stuffed animals—all
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