Page 93 of Freefall

Harper brushes her hair back from her face. “What happened?”

I fill her in while she listens with one arm wrapped around Daisy, who has fallen asleep.

“I came as fast as I could,” she says, the guilt written all over her face.

“I know.”

I take a step toward her

Comfort her.

Tell her everything is going to be okay.

But before I can do either, the doctor steps back into the room.

“Good news,” she says with a smile. “The imaging came back completely clear. There’s no fracture.”

Harper exhales next to me.

“It’s a moderate sprain,” she continues. “Emory will be back to wrap it. Daisy will need to keep weight off of it for the next few days, so we’ll fit her for crutches. I also printed the RICE protocol instructions for you, and you can follow up with her pediatrician in about a week.”

“Thank you,” Harper says, taking the stapled packet.

As soon as the doctor is gone, she crumples. “Everything is falling apart.”

“Hey.” I lift her chin up, freeing her bottom lip from between her teeth with my thumb. “It’s just a sprain.”

“I know, but…” She shakes her head. “You’re right. It could have been so much worse.”

I sit on the bed next to her and hope to hell it can support all three of us. Then, just like she did a few days ago, she rests her head on my shoulder, and I run a hand through her hair.

“Harper?”

“Yeah?”

“She knows.” Harper sits up, a slight frown pulling at her brows. “The receptionist asked who I was to Daisy.”

Understanding slowly spreads across her face.

“I’m so sorry, Dani. I wanted to tell her together.”

Her eyes turn glassy before drifting to our daughter still sleeping peacefully. “Me too.”

“If it makes a difference, I think she already knew, or at least suspected.”

A knowing look flashes across her face. “She’s too smart for her own good sometimes.”

I take her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb along her palm. “She said she had hoped I was her dad.”

Harper goes completely still, then turns to me, her hazel eyes searching mine for answers neither of us has. She doesn’t say anything else, but she lays her head on my shoulder again. We sit in silence for a while before I finally break it.

“I’m going to need the school directory,” I say into her hair.

“Do I want to know?”

“It might be best if you don’t.”

Harper opens her mouth to respond, but the curtain opens, and Emory walks in carrying a compression wrap and a pair of child-sized crutches. “Okay, Daisy, are you ready for⁠—”