I lifted Elodie off the stool and into my arms.

Her hands, when they wrapped around my neck, were cold and wrinkled and slick with detergent.

“Daddy, my hands hurt,” she whispered into my ear, her body shaking.

“But please don’t tell Grandma I said so, because she gets mad at Mommy when I do.” I felt something in my chest fracture.

“Go to your room, sweetheart,” I said softly, setting her down.

“Lock the door and stay inside until I come get you.” She nodded, obedient, and hurried down the hall.