“Emma, you can tell me anything,” I said.

She stared at the melting ice cream in her hand.

“I know.

But if I tell you, he might make me stop coming here.”

That settled one question immediately.

I would not force her to choose between honesty and the small piece of safety she had found with me.

I promised that I loved her and that our Saturday afternoons would not disappear because she had asked a difficult question.

She climbed off the bench.