Sea clung to me as Ryan trailed behind us, heading outside.
The patio was drenched in golden sunlight, making the pool glisten. The air smelled faintly of freshly cut grass and chlorine, cool. Sea wriggled in my arms until I had no choice but to set her down.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, she stepped back, her face scrunched up in a frown. She crossed her tiny arms over her stomach, her Barbie doll dangling awkwardly from one hand. “Why did I think any differently?” she muttered. “They always leave.”
The words struck me. My daughter rarely displayed such frustration, especially over people leaving. She barely batted an eye when her nannies quit one after another, declaring her “too much to handle.” But now, there was a new disappointing tone to her words that made me freez
