The Day I Dropped My Husband at the Airport, My Eight-Year-Old Daughter Warned Me Not to Go Home. Minutes Later, I Saw Why.

I took it down and put it in the box.

I did not know whether she would want it.

That decision could belong to her later.

Back at Rachel’s apartment, Lily immediately wrapped herself in the quilt.

She smelled it and said, “It smells like my room.”

“Because it came from your room.”

“Do we have to throw everything away?”

“No, honey.