Caroline continued before argument began.
“I moved my arm while you were grabbing it.”
“You fell.”
“I understand why it felt like I made you fall.”
“But I am not going to say I pushed you if I don't believe I did.”
Andrew watched.
Good.
No false confession to make peace.
Sophie looked down.
“I grabbed.”
“Yes.”
Caroline kept her voice gentle.
“You cannot grab someone’s arms or things from their hands, even when the thing belongs to you.”
“What if they stole?”
Andrew almost smiled.
Caroline did not.
“You get another adult.”
“What if no adult?”
“Then you get safe.”
“That is complicated.”
Sophie frowned.
Caroline smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
“Seven is annoying.”
Sophie almost smiled.
Almost.
Caroline continued.
“I am sorry I held your arms when you were already scared.”
“You were trying to get the necklace.”
“But I think holding you made you feel trapped.”
Sophie nodded.
Tears returned.
“Mom said necklace isn't her.”
Caroline’s throat tightened.
“I know.”
“Dad told you?”
“Yes.”
Sophie opened the locket.
For the first time Caroline saw inside.
Two tiny photographs.
On the left, Hannah at perhaps thirty-three, smiling into sunlight.
On the right, Sophie as a toddler asleep against Hannah’s chest.
Caroline had never seen either photograph.
Sophie held it out.
Caroline stared.
“Do you want me to look?”
Sophie nodded.
Caroline moved closer.
Not too close.
She looked.
Hannah had been beautiful.
Of course.
But not in the polished way Caroline had built in her head from wedding photographs and memorial portraits.
In this tiny image Hannah’s hair was messy.
One eye half closed from sun.
A coffee stain appeared near the collar of her shirt.
Human.
Caroline smiled.
“She looks tired.”
Sophie stared.
Then laughed.
“Dad says I didn't sleep.”
Andrew nodded.
“Correct.”
Sophie looked toward Caroline.
“Do you want Mom necklace?”
The question shocked her.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s yours.”
Sophie considered.
“Can I show you videos?”
Andrew froze.
Caroline saw.
Sophie did too.
“Dad doesn't like.”
Andrew closed his eyes.
“I didn't say that.”
“You cry.”
“Yes.”
“That means don't like.”
“No.”
Andrew sat on the rug.
“It means they hurt.”
“Bad?”
“Not bad.”
He looked toward Caroline.
“Hard.”
Sophie nodded as though hard made more sense.
Caroline looked at the child.
“If you want to show me one someday, I would like that.”
“Today?”
Caroline looked toward Andrew.
He looked terrified.
There.
For once she understood him without resentment.
“Maybe not today.”
she said.
Sophie frowned.
“Why?”
“Because today already has too many feelings.”
The child considered.
“Okay.”
At seven, that was enough.
The next morning Andrew called Margaret.
Caroline did not listen.
That was deliberate.
She took Sophie to school.
The clasp on the locket had been temporarily tied with a piece of soft ribbon so Sophie could carry it inside a small pouch in her backpack without wearing it.
At drop-off, Sophie looked toward Caroline.
“Can you fix it?”
“The necklace?”
“Yes.”
“I can take it to the jeweler.”
“Not Dad?”
“Dad can.”
Sophie thought.
“You.”