Dominic looked at Grace.
She smiled.
“They’re doing their job,” Grace said.
Sophie leaned against her father.
Dominic’s arm went around her naturally now, no hesitation, no fear of mistakes. He had learned that being a father wasn’t a show. It was practice. Clumsy, repetitive, humbling practice.
After Sophie fell asleep, Grace took the bowl to the kitchen.
Dominic followed.
For a while, they listened to the rain on the glass.
Then he said, “She asked me yesterday if Elena would be disappointed in me.”
Grace turned. “What did you say?”
“I said yes. For some things. And no for others. I told her love doesn’t require lying about the dead.”
