“Welcome back, Mr. Valdez. Your trip went well, I hope?”
“Well enough.” I loosened my tie, already moving toward the stairs. “How’s Lily?”
“She’s been absolutely lovely.” The way she said it made me pause, because lovely wasn’t a word anyone used to describe my daughter’s behavior lately. Compliant, yes. Obedient, certainly. But lovely suggested something more.
“Lovely how?”
“More engaged, I’d say. More present. She’s been having more interactions with Ms. Tinsley.”
The mention of Sarah made something in my chest tighten, though I couldn’t say why.
“Where is she now?”
“In her room.”
I climbed the stairs and moved down the hallway to Lily’s door, which stood slightly ajar. She sat cross-legged on her bed with her sketchbook, and when I knocked softly she looked up.Her face didn’t close off the way it usually did when I appeared. Instead, something that might have been a smile touched the corners of her mouth.
“I’m back,” I said, stepping inside. “Did you miss me?”
She nodded, then set aside her sketchbook and moved to the edge of her bed. Waiting.
I’d brought gifts because that’s what fathers did when they traveled, and I’d chosen carefully. A set of professional colored pencils, she opened the case with careful fingers. Her eyes went wide at the array of colors, and she immediately pulled out a shade of purple that looked exactly like the one she used in all her drawings.
“I thought you might like more options,” I said.
She nodded again, this time with more enthusiasm, and reached for the book. When she saw the cover showing paintings in vibrant colors, her expression brightened.
“There’s one more,” I said, pulling out the final gift. “I saw it and thought of you.”
It was a music box, small and delicate, with an intricate design carved into the wood. When you wound it up, it played Clair de Lune. Simple, beautiful, nothing that would remind her of things best left forgotten.
Lily took it with both hands like it was made of glass, and when she looked up at me, tears shone in her eyes.
“If you don’t like it, I can return it,” I said quickly. “I just thought?—”
She shook her head hard, clutching the music box to her chest. Then she did something she hadn’t done in months. She reached out and wrapped her arms around me in a brief, tight hug before pulling back.
My throat went tight as I wrapped my arm around her. I couldn’t tell how long I held her, simply cherishing the moment where everything felt right again.
“I’ll let you look at your gifts. I need to unpack.” I said reluctantly.
She nodded and returned to examining the music box, already reaching for the key to wind it up.
I left her room and headed to my own, loosening my tie the rest of the way. The trip had been successful in all the ways that mattered for business, but I felt more exhausted now than when I’d left. Being away from Lily, even for a few days, stretched something in my chest that never quite relaxed until I saw her again.
I needed to put the last gift in her wardrobe, something I’d bought on impulse and immediately regretted. A dress, soft blue with delicate embroidery, the kind Joana used to dress her in for special occasions. I’d seen it in a shop window and bought it before logic could intervene, telling myself Lily needed nice clothes even if she never went anywhere to wear them.
I returned to her room silently. Her wardrobe stood against the far wall of her room, and I opened it quietly while she sat on her bed winding up the music box. The shelves were organized exactly how Mrs. Pearson kept them, everything folded and arranged by color and season.
That’s when I saw them.
Ballet shoes. Pink leather with ribbons, sitting on the shelf. Like they had every right to exist in my daughter’s space.
My hand closed around them before I’d fully processed what I was doing. These were new dancing shoes.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees, or maybe that was just my blood going cold. I turned to look at Lily, who had frozen with the music box key still in her hand. Her eyes were wide and fixed on the shoes I held, and her expression carried something that looked like terror.
“Where did these come from?”
