“It’s heartbreaking to see him at night watching you and Aria from the window.” She nods to the window opposite of where I hold Aria. “I told him to go in, but he said he’s fighting a cold.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

She shrugs. “Last night. He’s been here every night. Just … standing there for hours.”

I nod slowly, biting my lips together. Tears burn my eyes. Of course he’s watching over us. He’s always there watching … protecting. He’s my superhero fighting his mortality.

“Elle.”

I turn. “Camilla.” I smile.

She holds up her phone.

FLINT: I’m safe. Don’t worry. Tell Elle I’m sorry.

More tears sting my eyes. “Where’s Harry?”

“Gene needed coffee. They’ll be here soon.”

“We’re here.” Gene holds up his coffee as they walk down the hall toward us.

I blink back my tears and find the perfect smile for Harry. “Are you ready to be Aria’s music therapist today?”

“I’m not a music therapist. You just told me to bring my guitar.” He holds up the case.

I nod toward the entrance. “Let’s play her a lullaby. You’re going to let your fingers whisper to the strings.”

He stares at me expressionless. “O … K.”

I bring her to my chest, letting my heart start the rhythm of the song. “What’s your favorite lullaby, Harry?” I whisper. “Play it.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You can. Let your fingers translate what’s in your head.” He can do this. He’s just that gifted. And the wonder of it all is that he doesn’t see it yet.

His brow tenses; a few seconds later his fingers do exactly what I told them to do … they whisper to the strings. He plays “You Are My Sunshine.”

It’s my turn to save Flint. I’m going to piece his world back together. He just needs to hold on. He needs to give me a chance, the one thing Alex never did.

*

After Aria’s next feeding, I ask Camilla to sit with her while I take Harry to the cafeteria for lunch.

“You walk really slow.”

I laugh as we step onto the elevator. “I’m still sore from the accident, and I have an incision on my abdomen from the C-section. Everything’s a little sore when I move, so I move slowly.”

“They cut her out of you?”

“Yes.”

“My mom pushed me out. My dad has a video of it. He had me watch it once. It’s pretty gross.”

We get some food. Harry sticks with a bowl of fruit. He seems lost when Flint’s not around to tell him what’s safe to eat.

“After your mom died, you lived with your grandma. Did you ever wonder about your dad?”

Harry chews a piece of cantaloupe and shrugs. “He was sick.”

“Is that what she told you?”

He nods.

“But then you ended up living with your dad again.”

“He got better.”

“Did anyone ever tell you what kind of sickness he had?” I blow on my hot soup.

“What do you mean?”

“There are a lot of different illnesses: cancer, heart disease, diabetes.”

“No. My grandma just said he was sick, and maybe I could see him if he got better.”

I stare at my soup. It must have been difficult to explain this to a young child. “Well, here’s the truth about illnesses or diseases, most of them are preventable through better choices. Diet, exercise, abstaining from drug and alcohol use. But a lot of these things are addictive. You probably know that tobacco, like cigarettes, are addictive, but so are unhealthy foods. Too much fat can lead to heart disease. Too much sugar can lead to obesity and diabetes. And the more we eat these foods, the more our bodies crave them. Food can be just as addictive and harmful as any drug.”

“My dad thinks I’m addicted to sugar. That’s why he limits it.”

I smile. “But you like sugar, right?”

He nods.

“When there’s a plate of cookies in front of you, is it hard to resist eating them?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s because the feeling you get when you’re eating them is a drug. Just like someone who inhales the nicotine of a cigarette, they get this good feeling in their body. But these feelings are temporary, so to keep the feeling alive, we need more and more. More sugar. More nicotine. More fat. More salty chips.”

“You’re not making cookies anymore, are you?”

I laugh a little. “I’ll make you cookies as long as you can control how many you eat. But if you start to get shaky and moody, or you start to gain an unhealthy amount of weight, then I’ll have to stop baking cookies.”

Taking a deep breath, I move forward. “You know your dad doesn’t drink alcohol, right?”

“Yeah. He says it’s not healthy. He’s a health freak.”

“Well, a lot of health freaks are recovering addicts. Maybe they almost died of a heart attack. Maybe they got diabetes after gaining lots of weight. And they had to choose between living or letting their addiction kill them. And your dad many years ago was addicted to alcohol.”

“What?”

“That illness he had, the one that kept him away from you when you lived with your grandma? It’s called alcoholism. He couldn’t just have one drink. He lost control with alcohol.”

“It’s not a real illness.”

“It is, Harry. And there are a lot of people with this illness. There are a lot of people who die from this.”

“But my dad didn’t die. He quit.”

“Correct. But most people don’t quit their addiction until they die or something life-changing happens to them. Usually a near-death experience, like someone who changes their diet after they survive a heart attack that could have killed them. Some people call this a coming to Jesus moment.”

“I don’t believe in God. There’s no real proof.”

I grin. “It’s a saying. It’s something bad that happens and then everything in your life changes forever. Your dad had one of these moments, and that’s what made him stop drinking.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Your dad didn’t believe he was an alcoholic until something bad happened because he drank too much.”

“What happened?”

I’m here. I’ve walked him this far. Maybe Flint’s walked him this far before too. Right to the edge. The moment of truth. But it’s stuck in my throat, strangling me because I know if I say the words everything will change. I don’t want Harry to hate his father. I don’t want Flint to hate me. But this family of ours is cracked and vulnerable because of this secret.

Maybe everything has to break before it can truly be fixed.

“The night your mom died in the car accident, your dad was driving.”

“It was raining. The roads were slick. They’ve told me this story before.”

I don’t know. I never asked if it really was raining. Maybe it was. It doesn’t matter.

“But no one told you that your dad had been drinking that night. No one told you that he was intoxicated, and that’s what caused the accident. Because it’s hard for an adult to understand and accept something so tragic, but it’s unimaginable to expect a child to understand.”

“I hate when they serve watermelon that’s basically rind. Look, it’s clear. No color. No flavor.”

Oh, Harry …

“Your dad hasn’t been around because he knows you think the guy who caused my accident deserved to die—because he’d been drinking. I’m telling you this so you know. He needs for you to know. But I don’t think he expects you to forgive him. It wouldn’t be fair to ask that of you.”

“Grandpa found this donut place that has gluten-free donuts without dairy, but I’m not supposed to tell my dad.”

I slide my soup aside and fold my hands on the table. “Remember that photo I had of the guy, Alex, jumping out of a plane? The one I told you climbed Mt. Everest?”

Harry glances up. “Yeah.”

“He got stuck in an avalanche, and by the time they rescued him, his hands had severe frostbite. They had to remove his hands. Alex was my husband. But after he lost his hands, he treated me badly. The things he did and said to me were, in many ways, unforgivable. We divorced. But I kept telling myself I forgave him. I thought if you truly love someone, nothing should be unforgivable.”

I blink several times to keep the tears in check. “But if I’m honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever completely forgive him. I will love him forever. Emotions are ours. They are intimate and personal. And they shouldn’t be right or wrong. No one should tell you what to feel, who to love, or how to live.” I reach across the table and cover his hand with mine.

He curls it into a fist, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Your dad just needs you to know. That’s all. And now you do.” I ease out of the chair and grab my tray.

“If Aria died, would you forgive the driver that hit your car?” Harrison’s gaze meets mine.

I hurt for him so damn bad right now. Of course Flint hasn’t told him. Who turns their child’s world upside down on purpose?