Emma looked up at me.
“Mom, it’s okay.”
That hurt more than anything Vanessa had said.
My daughter was trying to make herself smaller so that an adult wouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable.
I placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Okay,” I said calmly. “Come inside, sweetheart.”
Vanessa rolled up her window.
Her SUV pulled away, leaving a spray of water along the curb.
Through the rear window, I saw Sophie turned around in her seat, staring at us.
Inside the house, Emma took off her wet sneakers and placed them beside the door.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“If I hadn’t stepped in the puddle, maybe she would have let me come.”
For a second, I couldn’t speak.
Then I knelt in front of my daughter and took her hands.
“Emma, look at me.”
She lifted her eyes.
“You did absolutely nothing wrong. Do you understand? Nothing.”
