"Mommy said you were busy," Lily says. "But I told her I wanted to see you anyway. She said I had to ask nicely."
"Did you ask nicely?"
"I said please three times." She holds up three fingers to demonstrate. "That's a lot of pleases."
"It is."
She fidgets with the ear of her stuffed rabbit. "Are you still sad?"
"What makes you think I'm sad?"
"Your face." She reaches up and touches my cheek with her small hand. "It looks sad sometimes. Like when Mr. Bunny got lost and I thought I'd never find him again."
I don't know what to say.
Lily continues without waiting for a response. "But then Mommy found Mr. Bunny under the couch. So I wasn't sad anymore." She pauses, considering. "Maybe someone will find your happy under the couch too."
"Maybe," I say.
She nods, satisfied with this answer. Then she shifts on my lap, making herself more comfortable.
"Can you tell me a story?"
"What kind of story?"
"A princess story. But with dragons. And the princess has to be brave, not just pretty. Pretty is boring."
"Pretty is boring," I repeat.
"Uh-huh. Mommy says I'm pretty AND brave. That's better."
"Your mommy is right."
Lily beams at me.
I remember the first time I met her. Kristen had just started working for the family, and she'd brought Lily to the compound. I was in one of my darker moods that day. Snapping at everyone. Pushing people away.
Then this tiny tornado had wandered into the hallway where I was brooding and asked me why I was sitting in a "special chair."
I'd told her my legs didn't work properly.
She'd considered this for a moment, then asked if she could sit in my lap so her legs could rest too.
No pity. No awkwardness. No careful tiptoeing around the subject.
Just simple acceptance.
She'd made me feel normal that day. Like I was just a person, not a broken thing everyone had to handle with care.
She still does.
"Once upon a time," I begin, "there was a princess who lived in a castle made of stone."
Lily settles deeper against my chest, her rabbit tucked under her chin.
"Was she brave?"
"The bravest."
