Enrico sat motionless, breathing heavier than usual, fighting himself.
“There was… an argument,” he said finally, voice rough and low. “Unfortunately, Clara witnessed it—without us realizing.”
Alice nodded and wrote something down.
“I understand,” she said. “It’s important to remember that children Clara’s age are extremely sensitive to their environment. Even if they don’t understand the details, they absorb adult emotions intensely. Anxiety episodes like this can repeat if adjustments aren’t made.”
Guilt multiplied inside me, sharp and punishing.
“What can we do?” I asked, exhausted, voice trembling as I fought tears.
Alice leaned forward slightly, her expression warm.
“Before we talk about next steps, I need to understand how the last few weeks have been for Clara. Tell me about her current environment. Has there been significant change recently?”
I nodded slowly, throat tight.
“Yes,” I said. “We moved a few days ago into Enrico’s home. Before that, she lived with me—just the two of us—with a simple, stable routine.” My voice shook. “This move was sudden. There wasn’t time to prepare her properly.” I swallowed. “And we’ve had… conflict. The emotional situation between us hasn’t been easy.”
Alice nodded as she took notes.
“Has Clara been asking about these changes?” she asked. “Has she shown signs of insecurity or discomfort?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “She’s confused. She’s anxious. She’s asked more than once to go back home.” My voice broke slightly. “Clara has always been a calm child, but in the last few weeks she’s been more irritable, more restless, having trouble sleeping. And last night…” I shook my head. “Last night was unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”
Alice glanced briefly at Enrico, who stayed silent, visibly affected.
“That makes sense,” she said. “Children struggle with sudden disruptions and intense family conflict.” She paused, then looked directly at both of us. “Ideally, you should avoid major changes in her routine for the next few months.”
The words landed like a sentence.
“That includes changes in residence, drastic shifts in schedule, or emotional upheaval that could make her feel even more unsafe.” Alice’s voice softened, but her meaning didn’t. “She needs stability and security—especially now.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. The weight of it was too heavy.
“Frequent changes or heightened emotional conflict can worsen her condition,” Alice continued. “The best thing you can do is create a stable routine and minimize conflict in front of her.”
I swallowed hard.
Enrico’s eyes flicked to mine—fast, heavy—both of us hearing the same implication in those words.
“I understand,” I whispered, though it sounded like surrender.
Alice offered a small, encouraging smile.
“I know this may be difficult given the circumstances,” she said, “but it’s crucial that you work together. Clara needs to feel that—even under stress—her parents are a united, safe front.” She held our gaze. “Her emotional stability depends directly on that.”
The words filled the small room, heavy and unavoidable.
And for the first time in a long time, I looked at Enrico and saw what I didn’t want to see:
He was lost.
Devastated.
And just as unsure as I was about how we were supposed to survive what we’d created.
FORTY
