I found Daddy sitting on the big chair in the living room, and he was doing something I'd never seen before. He was crying. Not loud crying like when I fall down and scrape my knee, but quiet crying where the tears just slide down his face like rain on windows.
"Daddy?" I whispered, tiptoeing closer. "Are you hurt?"
He looked up real fast and tried to wipe his eyes, but I already saw. Grown-ups think kids don't notice things, but we notice everything. Especially when our daddies are sad.
"Hey, princess." His voice sounded funny, like when I have a stuffy nose. "I'm okay. Just... thinking about some grown-up stuff."
I climbed up on the chair next to him because that's what you do when someone's crying. You get close so they know you care. "Is it about the nice man who makes Mommy sad?"
