Chapter 2

At ten the next morning, I called Lennox while Willa sat at the kitchen table.

I turned toward the window and lowered my voice.

"Can you prepare the divorce papers?"

Lennox Sterling was silent for a moment. "I can. Do you want me to send them to Dashiell?"

I looked back at Willa.

She had spread Promise #99 in front of her.

Several strips of clear tape clung to her fingers as she tried to line up the two torn halves.

"Not yet," I said. "Just have them ready."

"Call me when you've decided."

I ended the call and sat down beside my daughter.

"Why are you fixing it, sweetie?" I asked gently.

"Because there's still one more."

"One more what?"

Willa reached into her sketchbook and showed me the final slip.

Promise #100: Tomorrow, Daddy will take me to pick the prettiest bag in the whole store.

"If Daddy keeps this one, maybe last night was only a mistake," she said.

My chest tightened. "Willa—"

She pressed the torn edges together.

Willa still believed mistakes could be repaired.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Camilla stood on the porch with a silver gift bag in her hand. Maren waited beside her in a purple raincoat.

"Good morning, Iris."

Camilla tried to step across the threshold, but I kept one hand on the door and didn't move aside.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Maren felt bad about last night. She wanted to bring Willa a beautiful gift."

I wanted to refuse, but Maren pushed the bag toward me before I could speak.

"I picked the purple one, Mrs. Croft. Mommy said Willa likes purple."

My eyes dropped to the silver gift bag.

A purple ribbon had been tied around one handle, but the sticker on the front was impossible to miss: MAREN'S 6TH BIRTHDAY.

It wasn't a present chosen for Willa. It was something left over from the birthday Dashiell had chosen over hers.

Heat rose through my chest.

Before I could answer, Maren called toward the hallway, "Willa! I brought you something!"

Willa came slowly out of her bedroom, clutching her blue sketchbook to her chest.

Her eyes brightened when she saw the purple ribbon.

Then she noticed Maren's name on the front of the bag.

The small smile vanished from her face.

I wished I had closed the door before she saw it.

Maren looked toward the kitchen instead.

"Do you have any birthday cake left?" she asked. "The piece with the pink flower looked really pretty."

Willa's fingers tightened around her sketchbook. That had been the piece she saved for her father.

"No," I said. "I threw the rest away last night."

"Oh." Maren looked disappointed for only a second.

Then she turned back to Willa. "Uncle Dashiell stayed with me until I fell asleep. Did he come back and eat your cake too?"

Willa looked down at her shoes, clearly unwilling to answer.

"If there's nothing else, you're free to go," I said, my patience wearing thin.

Maren tilted her head. "Why do you call Uncle Dashiell 'Daddy', Willa?"

Willa finally looked at her. "Because he is my daddy."

"But Mommy said Uncle Dashiell was learning how to be my daddy."

The room went completely still.

Camilla's face flushed. She grabbed Maren's shoulder. "Maren, that's enough."

"But you did say it," Maren protested.

That was the moment I nearly lost control, but I couldn't do that in front of Willa.

I touched Willa's cheek. "Go put your sketchbook in your room, baby. I'll be there in a minute."

Willa looked at the bag one last time, then nodded. "Okay."

She walked slowly toward the stairs. I waited until she was out of sight before turning back to Camilla.

Camilla forced an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Iris. Maren didn’t understand what she was saying.”

I took the silver bag and placed it back in Camilla's hands.

I looked down at Maren, then turned to Camilla.

"Don't apologize for her. She's six. She only repeated what you told her."

Camilla's smile disappeared.

"And Willa doesn't need leftovers from another child's birthday. She deserves something chosen for her."

"What the hell is going on?"

Dashiell's voice came from behind me.