"I really don’t know how to say this," I begin, "so I’m just going to say it."
"You’re scaring me, Cal," she says, her tone cautious now.
"We found Dani."
Her eyes dart from me to the cereal box, then to something far off in the distance. She doesn’t say anything at first—just sits there, as if those three words need time to settle, to be believed.
"Are you sure?" she asks, disbelief written all over her face. "How? When? Where is she?"
"She’s my new neighbor," I say gently, reaching for her hand. "I found out last night. We wanted you to know as soon as possible."
"Mom and Dad know?" she whispers, her eyes welling with tears. "Are they okay?"
"They’re fine, sweetheart," I say softly.
"Is she… nice?" she asks, her voice shaky, her eyes wide with a fragile mix of fear and hope.
"Yes," I say. "She's a beautiful, kind, gentle, selfless human being."
"Really?" she says, releasing a breath she'd been holding.
"Bethy," I begin gently, "she’s very angry at me right now."
"Why?" she asks, confusion knitting her brows.
"She thinks we kept you from her," I say, choosing honesty. "You're old enough now to understand why you two had to be separated."
"I know," she says softly. "Mom’s explained it to me so many times. It’s still hard, though."
"I know," I echo. "She's angry because she remembers that day. I was the one who took you from her arms. She sees me as the enemy. Like I stole you from her. I hurt her. I just… I need to explain, to tell her exactly how things happened. In the meantime, I think she’ll want to see you."
"Okay," she says, her eyes meeting mine. "When?"
"I think we should give her a little time to process everything. She’ll let us know when she’s ready."
"Where has she been?" she asks, her tone sharper now.
"She was in California," I begin. "A nurse. From the way she talks about you… it sounds like she’s been looking for you this whole time. Just like we searched for her and came up empty. I think she’s never stopped hoping."
"Are you sure she’ll want to see me?" she asks, her voice uncertain.
"Absolutely," I say. "Her desire to see you is just as strong as her desire never to see me again."
She frowns. "I’m sorry, Cal."
"Don’t be," I assure her. "Just know she loves you. Whatever happened—whatever kept you two apart—was beyond our control. Neither of us chose this. We just lost each other."
The door swings open, and Hannah walks in, holding a fruit smoothie in one hand and half-eaten bagel in the other.
“Breakfast of champions,” I say with a grin.
“Hi, Daddy,” she replies, climbing onto my lap.
Mom’s eyes light up when she sees Beth, and the two of them embrace warmly.
“I love you, Mommy,” Beth says softly. “Thank you for being my mom.”
“I love you too, Baby,” Mom replies, glancing over at me.
