When I married Travis three years ago, I thought I was being swept into a fairy tale. His family looked like they stepped straight out of a glossy magazine. They owned a sprawling estate in Willowbrook Hills and attended charity galas every month. Their names were carved into plaques all over town. These were the kind of people who vacationed in the Hamptons and skied in Aspen.
But behind all that glitter was something ugly I never saw coming.
I brought Lila into our marriage when she was just two years old. She’s five now, with the biggest brown eyes and a laugh that could melt glaciers. She also has vitiligo—patches of lighter skin scattered across her beautiful face and arms like little clouds.
To her, they’re just her “cloud spots.” But to Travis and me, they make Lila even more perfect.