I pulled her into my arms, her small body trembling against me. "They won't be at your school, sweetheart. I promise."
"You promised they wouldn't come to the clinic either." Her words weren't accusatory, just honest. And devastating.
I'd been naïve. I'd convinced myself that if we kept our heads down, the media attention surrounding Easton's paternity would blow over. Instead, it had escalated.
"You're right," I admitted, stroking her hair. "I didn't think they would do that. But your school has rules about visitors. They won't let strangers onto the campus."
Casey pulled back to look at me. "Is this because of me? Because I'm a surprise?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. "What? No, Casey, absolutely not."
"That lady at the store said I was a surprise. She said Dad didn't know about me." Her lower lip trembled. "Is that why the people want pictures? Because I'm bad?"
"Oh, baby, no." I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You are not bad. You are not a problem. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. And to your dad."
She nodded slowly, but I could see the doubt lingering in her eyes.
"Can I stay home today? Just today?" she whispered.
I thought about my schedule, the full appointment book. Monique could run the front desk, but we were already short-staffed after yesterday's chaos.
Then I thought about the fear in my daughter's voice, the way she'd screamed when that photographer followed her.
"Okay," I said, kissing the top of her head. "Just today. But tomorrow, we try school again. Deal?"
"Deal."
I got her settled on the couch with cartoons and called my father. He answered on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep.
"Sadie? Everything okay?"
"Can you come over? Casey's not going to school today, and I need to check on the clinic."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
True to his word, he arrived exactly twenty minutes later, bringing fresh bagels and orange juice. Casey perked up at the sight of her grandpa, and I felt marginally less guilty about leaving her.
"Thanks, Dad," I said, grabbing my keys. "I shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."
He studied my face, the lines around his eyes deepening. "You look like you didn't sleep."
"I didn't."
"Easton?"
"Among other things." I didn't want to get into it, knowing Casey was likely listening from the next room.
My father nodded. "He called me last night. After everything that happened at the clinic."
That stopped me mid-reach for my purse. "He did?"
"Wanted to make sure Casey was okay. And you." He paused. "He sounded pretty torn up about it, Sadie."
"He's angry," I said quietly. "At me. At the situation. At himself."
"Sounds like he's got a lot to be angry about." When I flinched, my father added, "I'm not saying you made the wrong choice, sweetheart. I'm just saying anger doesn't always mean someone's going to leave. Sometimes it means they care enough to stay and work through it."
I didn't have a response to that, so I kissed his cheek and left.
