It was five words: I’m right here.

I believe you. Because the deepest wound Sarah inflicted was the conviction that Lily would not be believed, and the only medicine for that wound is to be believed, completely, out loud, by the person whose belief matters most.

Marcus could not undo the drops, or the filming, or the fear.

But he could reach into the place where Sarah had told his daughter she was alone, and he could say, I am here, and I believe you, and you are not alone, and you never will be again.

And he watched, in real time, that medicine work, watched the bracing go out of his daughter’s small body, watched her understand that the nightmare of not being believed was over.