And he learned that Leo, watchful Leo, quietly tested anyone who might one day walk away from him, laying small traps of trust to see whether the adult would fail him the way one already had.

Alex also learned, perhaps most importantly, to be on time.

It sounds like a small thing, punctuality, the least of the parental virtues.

But Alex came to understand that for these children, and especially for Leo, being on time was not a small thing at all.

It was the entire test, administered daily.

Because a person who leaves is, above all, a person who is not there.

And so the most concrete, measurable, unfakeable form of the opposite, of being present, of being a father who could be counted on, was simply this: to be where he said he would be, when he said he would be there, every single time, without exception.