The house was warm. Daniel had even opened the kitchen window while preparing dinner.
“Are you cold, sweetheart?” he asked.
“No.”
He looked at her for a moment but didn’t press her.
A few minutes later, she reached for a glass of water. Her sleeve slipped down, and she immediately tugged it back over her wrist.
Daniel put down his fork.
“Emma, is something bothering you?”
“I’m fine, Dad.”
He didn’t argue. He simply waited.
My daughter glanced at me, and I gave her a small nod.
Finally, she told him what Tyler had said.
Daniel listened without interrupting.
He didn’t curse. He didn’t slam his hand on the table. He didn’t immediately declare that Tyler was forbidden from seeing our daughter again.
His calmness almost frightened me more than anger would have.
When Emma finished, Daniel asked, “Before Tyler said those things, did you have a problem with your arms?”
