I could hear the wobble in her voice, that heartbreaking mix of confusion and betrayal only kids her age could feel so deeply. “Where’s your dad right now?”
“He’s in his room.” Her hand fumbled with the phone, giving me a dizzying tour of her room. A unicorn lamp, a pink comforter covered with pillows and stuffed animals, and a dozen Barbies littered all over the rug. “He told me to go to bed, but I didn’t want to. I just wanted to call you.”
“Oh, Harper…” I softened my voice, feeling completely out of my depth but unwilling to hang up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset.”
“I hate when he leaves,” she said, her tears coming faster now. “He used to go all the time. I cried every night, even with Miss Jade.”
I paused, unsure of who she was. Maybe a former girlfriend of Logan’s, an idea I quickly tried to put out of my head.
“She’s gone now,” Harper whispered, rubbing at her eyes. “She moved to see her grand babies. Daddy doesn’t have anybody else to watch me.”
I hesitated, unsure how much of this was a six-year-old’s emotions taking over and how much was fact. “Did he say that?”
She nodded, sniffling. “He said he’s trying to figure it out. But I don’t want anybody else. I want him.”
My throat tightened. I could picture it — Logan in the kitchen, trying to hold it together, probably already guilty for something that wasn’t his fault.
He’d never shared much about his life before Cami introduced us. I knew he’d served in the Marine Corps with Hunter; it was clear in the precision of his movements, the discipline still present in his gestures. I knew Harper’s mom had died, though the details were still unspoken. I knew he worked in security, usually remotely. That was it.
And now his daughter, this bright, sassy, glitter-obsessed little girl , was sobbing into my phone because the man who clearly revolved his world around her had no choice but to leave her again.
“Hey,” I said gently, shifting on the couch. “You know what? I bet your dad’s trying really hard to fix this.”
“I know,” she said between hiccups. “But what if he can’t?”
The question hung heavy in the air.
I wished I had an answer. I wish I could say something to comfort her. Instead, I swallowed the ache settling within me and gave her the only truth I could offer.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” I said softly. “Together, okay?”
She sniffled again. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
She nodded, but her face still crumpled. Then, after a moment, she looked up at me with those big, watery brown eyes. The exact same eyes that had made me cave when she asked me to sneak her a third cupcake at the wedding.
“Canyoustay with me?”
The words hit me like a punch and a pull at the same time.
“Me?” I asked, assuming I had misheard.
“Yeah.” She swiped her sleeve across her nose. “You said you’re good at helping people, right? And you already know how to fix my hair. And Daddy likes you.”
I froze. “Oh, Harper…”
“You could sleep in Miss Jade’s old room!” she continued, her voice suddenly hopeful. “Daddy didn’t sell the bed yet. And I’d be good! I promise. You wouldn’t have to do anything! Just be here because Daddy says I have too many years left before I can be alone.”
I closed my eyes for a second, pressing a hand over my heart because it actuallyached.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said gently. “That’s not really something I can decide without talking to your dad.”
“But he’d say yes,” she said quickly, desperate. “Please, Ms. Dani? I don’t want to stay with anyone else. Please,” She dragged out the last plea, a giddiness now tainting her tone.
I drew a slow breath, balancing compassion with boundaries. I wasn’t family, or a babysitter. I was barely more than her dad’s friend, though “friend” didn’t quite capture the strange, growing warmth between us.
But imagining Harper curled up crying into her pillow, alone in that bright, toy-scattered room, made my stomach twist into worried, protective knots.
