Myra tugged my hand. “Daddy, see? She came.”
He didn’t look at me at first. He looked at her, and something eased in his face that I had never been able to explain, even to myself. Then his gaze came to me again, steady as if it had been placed on a mark.
“Adeline,” he said.
It was almost funny, how my own name could cut so deep.
“Your Majesty,” I said, because we were playing parts for other ears, even if no one stood near enough to hear them.
We held that for a breath. Then I dropped my eyes to Myra. It was easier to breathe when I did.
“You walked on it?” I asked, nodding at the wrapped knee.
“Only a little,” she said, honest as ever. “The nurse said slow steps. I took slow steps.”
“Good,” I said, checking the line of the bandage with a touch as light as I could make it. Her ski
