I was chopping vegetables when my four-year-old daughter

big. You can be everything.”

Emma’s mouth curves, just a little.

Not her old laugh yet.

But something alive.

Something returning.

I kiss her forehead.

Andrew looks at me across the bed, and there is apology in his face, but also something stronger than apology. Horror. Recognition. A man seeing the shape of the cage he has mistaken for a home.

“I’ll move continue reading …