“That doesn't make it better.”
Jack leaned against the windowsill with his hands in his pants' pockets, frowning as he studied Harry. “Maybe not,” he said softly. “But it makes you better.”
Harry didn't say anything. What could he say to that? The awkward silence seemed to go on for several minutes – though, in reality, it was probably less than one – before Jack came over, patted Harry on the shoulder and said, “I have to get back. Call us if you need anything.”
Harry nodded.
Then he was alone again, left to watch as his daughter faded. Claire…Melissa had been seven years old when Claire came into their lives. Harry still remembered the shock he had felt when Della told him she was pregnant again. They had not planned on having a second child, but it was a welcome surprise nonetheless
