After following Mirabel to the room prepared for Kelly, I sat down on the bed beside her, picking up one of the many books from the shelves to read her a bedtime story. We spent most of the time daydreaming together, my three-year-old daughter and I. Kelly, smarter than anyone would expect for her age, soon veered off into her own curiosity, asking questions that made me smile.
“Wow, Mommy. You mean that handsome man is famous?” Kelly gasped, covering her mouth in surprise.
“Yes, honey,” I replied, gently rubbing her back. “And he’s also your father.”
Her face scrunched up in thought before she pouted slightly. “But why wasn’t he there when I was born?” She looked at me with wide, expectant eyes.
I hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the depth of her question. “Who told you he wasn’
