For a moment, neither of us moved.
A year earlier, I’d thought my job was to provide enough money that Clara would always be protected.
I understand it differently now.
Providing matters.
But protection also means being present enough to notice.
Listening when something doesn’t make sense.
Accepting that a child shouldn’t need courtroom-quality evidence before a parent takes her fear seriously.
I couldn’t change the months when Clara had needed me and I hadn’t known.
What I could change was everything that came afterward.
The Christmas tree lights reflected in the window.
Clara stepped down and reached for my hand.
This time, when she said she knew I had her, I knew exactly what she meant.
