repeated biting of the same area.
Her dental issue was treated.
The sore healed.
I cried when we received the result.
Daniel cried harder.
But relief didn’t erase what had happened.
That evening, after Lily went to bed, I put the little white box on the kitchen table.
“We need to talk about this.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
“You lied about where you were going at night.”
“Yes.”
“You took our daughter to a medical appointment without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“You asked an eight-year-old to keep a health concern secret from her mother.”
His eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
“And when she told you she wanted you to stop examining her, you didn’t stop.”
He swallowed.
“I was scared.”
“I understand that.”
He looked up.
“But fear doesn’t make her body yours.”
He said nothing.
“She’s eight, Daniel. If she says something hurts and asks you to stop, you stop unless there’s
