Jacob
On the fourth morning, I woke before the alarm and checked my phone before I got out of bed.
Bella was with Leah. I had canceled dinner the night before because I stayed at the hospital with Lizzie, and Bella had accepted it in the small, careful way that made me feel worse than anger would have.
I typed, How’s Bella this morning?
Then I deleted it.
Too close to asking Leah to reassure me about a disappointment I had caused.
Please tell Bella I’ll call after school.
Her answer came ten minutes later.
I will.
A second text followed: a photograph of Bella at the breakfast table, staring suspiciously at a piece of toast.
No caption. No punishment. Just my daughter, given to me because Leah had never used her as a weapon.
I drove to the hospital with the photograph still open
