I glanced instinctively, but I forced my gaze away since my daughter was right there.
Constance stepped back and admired her work. “Looks great.”
“We’ve got more.” Claire returned to the box of ornaments to fetch another one.
Constance continued to admire the lone ornament, her bright eyes reflecting the white lights that shone back at her. Her arms crossed over her chest and her stare remained, as if her mind had wandered elsewhere.
Claire came to her side with another ornament. “Hang this one up.”
Constance smiled as she took it from her. “I’m on it.”
Blanketed by the Christmas music, the warm fire, the hot cocoa, it was easy to forget the rain outside, forget that the world outside these walls was a terrible place, full of demons and criminals.
The box started to become empty, so I took a seat on the couch and let the girls finish what was left since they were having a good time. Constance was picky about the spots she chose, and she always stopped to consider her next move. Claire was a torpedo, zooming back and forth like it was a race to decorate the tree.
But then she stopped.
She stood at the coffee table where the box sat, looking inside as if she saw something that perplexed her. Her hand reached inside and withdrew a statue of an angel. It was white ceramic and smooth.
For the first time in my life, I was paralyzed.
Constance seemed to pick up on the tension because she turned around and stilled when she saw the item in Claire’s hand.
Claire dropped it back into the box and continued to stare down at it.
Constance immediately turned to me, her eyes giving that same sheer panic she’d shown me many times in the past.
The paralysis passed, and I sprang into action. “We don’t need to keep it.” It took all my willpower to sound normal, to keep my voice gentle, to force all the rage out of my tone. I grabbed the ornament and marched outside. I stepped outside the front door, down the stairs of my stoop, and into the pouring rain. My shirt was instantly soaked down to my skin, waterdrops rolling down the bridge of my nose like a stream. I squeezed the statue then slammed it down onto the sidewalk. It smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces, a pile of shards. There was no way to know what it had been before because it was mutilated beyond recognition. I looked up and down the street then walked back inside.
Claire was tucked into bed with her stuffed hippo in her arms. With the sheets to her shoulder and her eyes closed, she looked as peaceful as ever.
But I knew there was more underneath.
My fingers combed through her blond hair, coaxing her into her dreams. A love like this was indescribable. Every fear she felt, I felt it a million times worse. Every pain, every sorrow, was as much of a burden to me as it was to her.
I had the power to do a lot of things, but I couldn’t change the past.
I’d give anything to erase what happened. To erase everything she’d seen.
“Daddy?”
My hand stilled because I thought she’d been asleep. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“I didn’t mean to make you sad…” Her eyes opened to meet mine. “Whenever it comes up, you get really sad.”
All I could do was inhale a deep breath, the kind that hurt your lungs because you sucked in too much. I wanted to lie to her sweet little face and pretend everything was just fine, but she wasn’t fine and neither was I. “I just missed you so much while you were gone.”
“I know.”
“If you ever need to talk about it…” My eyes flicked away because I couldn’t be her priest. I couldn’t be her therapist. It was just too hard for me, to listen to her describe the things they tried to do to her. The only reason it hadn’t come to pass was because of the woman down the hall, the woman who saved us both. “We can find someone for you.”
“I like to talk to Constance.”
I gave a nod in encouragement, doing my best to keep a straight face and not let the breaths turn to sobs. “That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” I leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight. I love you.”
“Daddy?”
I just wanted to leave. I just wanted to hide my face. But I held on. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“There were still women there when I left… What happened to them?”
“They got home safe.” I’d never had to lie to anyone until I became a father. I didn’t care how much the truth hurt. If someone didn’t want the hard truth, I was the wrong person to ask, because I would deliver it on a silver platter. But with Claire…I buried her fears with my lies. “Don’t worry about them.”