Another silence. A longer one.
“Is this about the visit? You still upset about what she said last year?”
He exhales hard. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You come here,” I say. “You talk to them. You listen. Then you decide what kind of father you want to be.”
That night, he shows up.
He walks in with a pale face and uncertain eyes. Zach stiffens when he sees him. Lily folds her arms.
Daniel sits across from them at the table. “I didn’t know,” he says. “I thought things were fine.”
Zach glares at him. “You never asked.”
“I thought—she said you were happy.”
“She’s lying!” Lily yells. “She hates us now. You have a new kid and suddenly we don’t matter.”
I cut in. “None of that justifies neglect. Or cruelty.”
He nods slowly. “You’re right.”
Zach leans forward. “Are you gonna take us back to her?”
Daniel looks at me, then at them. “No. Not until I figure this out. You’re safe here, okay? I’ll talk to her. I’ll get help if I have to. But I’m not forcing you back into that house.”
It’s the first time I see something shift in Zach’s eyes. Not joy, not yet. But relief.
The next few days are a blur. Daniel comes by every evening after work. He doesn’t talk much, but he listens. He cooks dinner once. Lily makes him eat burnt toast and he does it without complaint.
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