My daughter opened her Christmas gift and found an empty box. My father laughed and said kids like her didn’t deserve presents

My father laughed, not kindly but sharply, the way someone laughs when they want to remind you who holds the power.
“Kids like you don’t deserve gifts,” he said, wagging a finger at Ava as though she had committed some grave moral offense.

I felt something tighten in my chest. I’d grown up with that voice—cold, belittling, always judging. I had spent years working to keep my distance for the sake of my own sanity. But after Ava was born, I tried again. I told myself people could change with age. I told myself my daughter deserved a family, even if fractured. But in that moment, watching her eyes well with confusion, I realized that perhaps I had been wrong.

Still, Ava surprised me. She didn’t cry. She didn’t protest. Instead, she reached behind the sofa and pulled out a small package wrapped in crooked tape and candy-cane paper creased from her tiny hands.