the end, Owen had moved close enough that his shoulder touched my arm.
When the visit ended, Lily’s smile faded.
“Do you have to go?”
The question was easier this time because I had learned to hate false comfort.
“Yes,” I said. “But I have another visit scheduled if Maya says it’s okay.”
“When?”
“Next Thursday.”
She looked at Maya.
Maya nodded. “That’s the plan.”
Owen whispered, “Plans change.”
I looked at him.
“They can,” I said. “So when they do, grown-ups should explain why.”
His eyes searched my face.
“You’ll explain?”
“Yes.”
He nodded once, as if filing that away under things that might become true.
Weeks passed.
I rearranged my life in ways that made board members nervous.
I declined flights.
Moved meetings.
Delegated negotiations I would once have controlled personally.
Learned the difference between washable and unwashable markers.
Discovered that children considered bandages with cartoon animals medically
