Chapter 7

Luca looked at the empty space on the drawing.

Then he looked at Sophie.

“Sweetheart, come here.”

She hesitated before getting out of her chair.

That hesitation was new.

Three months earlier, she would have run straight into his arms.

Now she seemed to be checking whether she was allowed.

Luca waited.

When she finally reached him, he didn’t pull her close immediately.

He asked, “Can I give you a hug?”

She nodded.

He held her against his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see how unhappy you were.”

Sophie rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“You were busy.”

“I was.”

“You had wedding stuff.”

“Yes.”

“And your work.”

He kissed her hair.

“None of that was more important than you.”

She didn’t answer.

I think she wanted to believe him.

I also think she’d heard grown-ups make promises before.

Luca must have understood.

He pulled back.

“I can’t fix this by saying the right thing tonight. I’m going to have to show you.”

Sophie studied him.

“Like when you say you’ll come to my school?”

He closed his eyes briefly.

“Yes.”

“And then there’s a meeting?”

“I remember.”

She nodded.

“Okay.”

There was no accusation in her voice.

That somehow made it worse.

Vanessa stood near the fireplace, watching.

For the first time, she seemed to understand that Luca wasn’t simply angry about a school application.

He was beginning to notice the things Sophie had learned not to expect from him.

“Luca,” she said, “I never intended to make her feel unwanted.”

He looked at her.

“Then what did you intend?”

“I wanted a chance to build something with you.”

“You had one.”

“In Claire’s house.”

Luca glanced around.

The dining room had been redecorated twice since Claire died.

Vanessa had selected the new curtains.

She’d chosen the furniture in the sitting room.

The wedding flowers were arranged according to her taste.

But I understood what she meant.

Claire’s presence couldn’t be measured by curtains.

It lived in Sophie’s memories, in the sewing tin, in the little handkerchief with two names.

Vanessa continued.

“Your friends still tell stories about her. Your relatives ask what Claire would have thought. Even the staff know which dishes she liked.”

I lowered my eyes.

I’d never met Claire.

Everything I knew about her came from Sophie and the small traces she’d left behind.

But Vanessa had lived beside those traces for months.

“I didn’t expect you to forget her,” Vanessa said. “I just wanted to stop feeling as though I was competing with someone who could never disappoint you.”

Luca was quiet.

Then he said, “Claire disappointed me plenty.”

Vanessa looked surprised.

“She was stubborn. She hated when I worked late. We argued about money, about my business, about whether I was home enough.”

He gave a faint, sad smile.

“She wasn’t perfect.”

Sophie looked up.

“Mommy got mad at you?”

“All the time.”

“Really?”

“Especially when I forgot to put my shoes away.”

For the first time that evening, Sophie laughed.

It lasted only a second.

But it was real.

Luca brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Your mother was a person, Sophie. Not just someone we miss.”

She nodded.

Vanessa watched the exchange.

Then she said something I hadn’t expected.

“My mother left when I was nine.”

Luca turned toward her.

He knew, I could tell, but Sophie hadn’t heard the story.

Vanessa looked down at her engagement ring.

“My father remarried when I was eleven. His new wife didn’t want reminders of his first marriage in the house.”

Sophie stared at her.

“Did you have to put your stuff away?”

Vanessa swallowed.

“Yes.”

“Did you get it back?”

A long pause.

“Not all of it.”

Sophie considered that.

“That’s sad.”

Vanessa looked at the little girl.

Something shifted in her expression.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It was.”

For a moment, I thought she might finally understand.

Then Luca asked, “So why would you do the same thing to Sophie?”

Vanessa looked away.

“Because I thought if we started over, it would be different.”

“Different for whom?”

She didn’t answer.

The clock near the fireplace chimed eleven.

Sophie looked exhausted.

Her hair had come loose around her face.

She’d spent hours trying not to cry, trying to make adults comfortable, trying to understand where she belonged.

Luca noticed.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to bed soon.”

“Can Emily help me fix the tie first?”

I looked at her.

“Of course I can.”

She glanced toward Vanessa.

“Is that okay?”

Luca answered.

“You don’t need permission to repair a present for your father.”

Sophie nodded.

Then she looked at the damaged tie lying beside the handkerchief.

“It’s not very good.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Luca said.

“You haven’t worn it.”

“I will.”

She looked uncertain.

I picked it up carefully.

The ribbon hung loose from one corner.

Claire’s old thread had been stronger than the silk Sophie used to fasten it.

I could fix the seam in a few minutes.

But Sophie stopped me.

“Wait.”

She touched the ribbon.

“Don’t take the whole thing off.”

“I won’t, honey.”

“Because I put it there on purpose.”

“I know. Blue was your mommy’s favorite color.”

She shook her head.

“That wasn’t the only reason.”

Luca looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

Sophie’s eyes filled again.

“Vanessa said I could only take three important things to Briarfield.”

Vanessa went still.

Sophie continued.

“I picked my coat, my sewing tin, and Mommy’s handkerchief.”

She looked down at the tie.

“But then I thought about you.”

Luca said nothing.

“I wanted you to have something I made. So you’d know I didn’t leave because I was mad at you.”

My throat tightened.

The crooked stitches suddenly looked different.

They weren’t just a child’s attempt at making an expensive-looking gift.

They were three weeks of work by a little girl who thought she was running out of time with her father.

Luca took her hand.

“Sophie, I thought you made this for the wedding.”

She nodded.

“I did. But I wanted you to keep it after.”

“After what?”

She looked directly at him.

And finally said the thing she’d been afraid to say all evening.

“Daddy… I made the tie so you’d remember to come get me.”

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