“I asked you not to.”
“You did.”
“And you went anyway.”
“Yes.”
Silence filled the room.
Then I said the words I should have said from the beginning.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at me.
Not relieved.
Not immediately forgiving.
Just listening.
“I thought being your father meant I had to fix this,” I continued. “But you’re thirty-one years old. You get to decide what happens next. I’ll help however you want. Or I’ll stay out of it if that’s what you need.”
Ellen sat beside her.
Marcy blinked quickly.
Then she whispered, “I don’t want you out of it.”
My throat tightened.
“I just don’t want you doing something that gets you hurt.”
“I won’t.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
She studied my face.
“You really didn’t hit him?”
“No.”
For the first time that night, the faintest smile touched her face.
