After dinner, she sat at the kitchen table with her math homework. Daniel sat across from her with a stack of envelopes.
Electric bill. Water bill. A letter from the landlord about the rent going up next month.
And the academy's enrollment form.
Monthly tuition: one hundred and twenty dollars.
Daniel looked at the number for a long time.
He had worked double shifts at the repair shop all winter. Fixing generators, compressors, industrial washers, anything with a motor and a problem. His hands were scarred from it. His back ached from it. And still, at the end of every month, the numbers never quite lined up.
"Dad?"
He looked up. Lily was watching him.
"Are we poor?"
The question landed like a punch he hadn't seen coming.
Daniel set down the envelopes.
"Why do you ask that, sweetheart?"
"Because you make that face. The bill face."
Daniel reached across the table and smoothed her hair.
"We don't have a lot of money," he said honestly. "But we have enough. And we have each other. Some people with a lot of money don't have that."
Lily thought about it.
"If karate costs too much, I don't have to go."
Daniel's throat tightened.
Eight years old. And already trying to protect him.
"You're going," he said. "That's not your job to worry about. That's mine."
She nodded and went back to her homework. Long division. She hated long division.
Daniel helped her through three problems. Then four. Then five. By the time she went to bed, the bills were still on the table, and the numbers were still wrong.