She is already, mostly, all right.

Not because she is unbreakable, but because when she broke, there was someone there who believed her, and stayed, and told her the truth, and never once let go.

Chapter 19 — Our Real Home

A little later, Fiona came bounding up the porch steps with Barnaby at her heels and a slightly crumpled drawing clutched in both hands, made in her weekend art class.

“Show me, sweetie,” I said, sweeping her up into my lap.