“She woke up from a bad dream,” Thomas said.

“I took care of it.

That’s what a parent does.”

“Emily,” María called, tilting her head around Thomas’s shoulder.

“Could you come three steps down the stairs for me?”

The little girl stayed rooted on the top landing.

Her chest rose and fell in short, quiet breaths that hardly stirred the collar of her pink pajamas.

She looked down at her father’s back, then slowly lifted her left hand.