The One Who Hadn’t Stopped Looking
My daughter was not refusing to accept her father’s death.
My daughter had noticed something, and she was gathering more of it, patiently, the way she gathered evidence about anything that puzzled her, and she was waiting, I would understand later, for an adult to finally stop grieving long enough to listen.
Chapter 5 — The Watch Was Still Ticking
At twenty past eleven that night, I finally walked over to her.
“Chloe, sweetheart,” I said.
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