"People don't want nothing."
"I do."
"Then you're either lying or you're smarter than everyone thinks."
Richard's jaw tightened.
Sophia continued.
"I'm having our legal team review your employment record."
"Sophia."
Simone's tone carried warning.
Sophia ignored her.
"Your finances, any disciplinary history, your divorce, everything."
Richard looked down briefly.
Sophia mistook the movement for guilt.
"If I find anything inconsistent with the story you're telling..."
Richard picked up his jacket.
Sophia stopped.
He looked at her.
Not angry.
That somehow made it worse.
"I understand."
Sophia frowned.
"You understand what?"
"Why you think this."
His voice was tired.
"You almost lost your mother."
He glanced at Simone.
"And apparently people have spent your whole life teaching you that anybody getting close to her must want something."
Sophia's expression shifted.
Richard continued quietly.
"That isn't your fault."
He nodded once toward Simone.
"I'll see you around."
Then he left.
The door closed.
Simone stared at her daughter.
"You were wrong."
Sophia folded her arms.
"You don't know that."
"I heard him."
"Mom..."
"For twenty-eight nights."
Sophia went still.
"I heard him when he believed I couldn't."
Simone's eyes glistened.
"I heard him talk about his children."
She swallowed.
"His divorce. His fear. His grandmother. Sitting in a fogged-up truck because he didn't want his children to see him cry."
Sophia looked away.
"He never asked me for anything."
Simone nodded toward Olivia's drawing.
"That little girl has never met me."
Sophia followed her gaze.
Yellow stars.
A sleeping woman.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
Simone said, "I spent seven weeks unable to move."
Her voice trembled.
"Do you know what I learned?"
Sophia said nothing.
"I learned exactly how lonely I had made my life."
A tear escaped.
"I also learned exactly how lonely I made yours."
Sophia's face tightened.
"Mom."
"I thought providing for you counted as being there."
Simone shook her head.
"The schools. The apartment. The tutors."
She laughed bitterly.
"I gave you everything that could be bought."
Sophia looked at the drawing again.
"And almost nothing that couldn't."
Simone closed her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Sophia stood absolutely still.
It was the first uncomplicated apology she could remember hearing from her mother.
No explanation.
No schedule.
No business reason.
Just sorry.
Something shifted inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But a locked window opening a fraction.
That night, Richard sat on his apartment couch with Olivia pressed against his left side and Oliver asleep against his right.
A Hallmark movie played on television.
Richard watched almost none of it.
Olivia looked up.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"You look sad."