"Why not?" "Because you don't do things for promotions," she said. "With the absolute certainty of a child who has watched her father operate for 9 years. You do things because they're right. Mom always said that.
Daniel's chest did the thing. Mom was right. He said, "I know." Amara was quiet, but it made me mad that Kayla said it. And it made me mad that I didn't know what to say back.
What did you say? Amara looked at Gerald. I said that my dad was the most honest person I knew. And if anyone had a problem with that, they could talk to him directly. 9 years old.
Daniel stared at her. That's exactly right. He said, "I know." She paused. "Dad, yeah.
Is she important to you? The lady from the car? The question asked so simply, so directly in the voice of his daughter, who deserved only the truth from him, landed with a weight that Daniel had not prepared for. "He was quiet for a moment." "I think she might be," he said.
Honestly, "I'm still figuring that out." Amara looked at him. "Is that okay?" He said. She thought about it with the genuine deliberateness of someone for whom the question is real, not performative.
Yeah, she said finally. It's okay. She paused. But she should meet and get serious. Daniel almost laughed.
That's very reasonable. I know. She picked up her textbook. I'm doing homework now. He was being dismissed by a 9-year-old.
He stood up. Hey, Dad. He stopped. I'm glad you went to dinner. She said without looking up from the book.
You looked different when you came home. Like you. He stood in the doorway for a moment. Like me? Like the you from before?
She turned a page. I like that you. He went to the kitchen. He stood at the counter for a moment and breathed. Then he picked up his phone and called Victoria.