“You never tell me anything about what happened back then.”
“Because you were a child.”
“I’m not anymore.”
The words landed heavily.
Clara opened her mouth, then closed it again.
He was right.
Somewhere during these past months away, her son had crossed quietly into adulthood while she wasn’t looking.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“She talks about you all the time.”
Clara’s throat tightened unexpectedly.
“She remembers little things. Your favorite soup when you were seven. The red coat you used to wear to school. The way you sang when you were nervous.”
“Stop.”
“She loves you.”
“No,” Clara whispered immediately. “Don’t do that.”
Daniel looked genuinely confused.
“She does.”
Clara shook her head slowly.
“Love is not enough, Daniel.”
The kitchen fell silent.
After a moment, Daniel leaned against the counter opposite her, exhaustion visible in every movement.
“She kept asking when you’d come home.”
Clara swallowed hard.
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