"Do you believe she will ever pardon me?"
The silence in the room was broken by Cath's voice, which was gentle yet heavy with a vulnerability I wasn't used to hearing from her. With her hands gripped tightly together, she sat at the edge of the bed and gazed down at the faded carpet as if it held the solution to her query.
I said, leaning against the doorframe, "Mia's a kid, Cath." "Perfection is not necessary for kids. They require affection. And you've given her that every day, even during difficult times.
Cath's eyes met mine as she turned her head slightly. "What if it's insufficient?"
I walked over to her and firmly replied, "It will be." I knelt down in front of her and held her hands. "Me and you? We will ensure that it is.
We were silent for a time. I could see the cautiousnes
