That night, after his bath, Theo darted into my bedroom to rescue his red toy car from the closet floor, and paused in the doorway with a thoughtful look.

“Mommy?

Are there good secrets in the world?” I knelt down to his level.

“Yes, my love.

There are.” “Like what?” “Like when we secretly plan a fun surprise gift for Grandpa’s birthday.” “And bad secrets?” I took his small hands in mine.

“Bad secrets are the ones that make you feel scared, or ashamed, or that ask you to protect a grown-up when you know deep down that something isn’t right.

Those, my love — those are the secrets you never, ever have to keep.