People like to confess when silence becomes too heavy.
The counselor stepped in, and Emma was just behind her.
My daughter’s eyes went straight to me.
“Mom?”
I crossed the room in two steps and pulled her into my arms. She felt small and warm and solid. Real. I held on longer than I meant to.
“You okay?” I asked into her hair.
I held on longer than I meant to.
She nodded against me. “Did I do something bad?”
I pulled back and took her face in my hands.
“No,” I said. “You did nothing bad. Do you hear me? Nothing.”
She searched my face, still uncertain.
Behind her, Caleb stood in the doorway, half-hidden. He looked terrified. Not guilty. Just scared, like he knew adults were breaking open around him and he had no way to stop it.
