Clara kept pointing at the track, unaware of the word that had just slipped from her mouth as naturally as breathing.

“Daddy,” she said again.

“Right there.” And Elena, who had just come through the front door using her own key, heard it from the entryway.

Alex looked up, and his eyes met hers across the room, and he did not know what he would find in her face.

She did not make a scene, or turn the moment into a production.

She simply gave him a small, subtle, approving nod.