Page 60 of Finders Keepers

“Oh?” I manage, my throat tight.

“He’s nice.” She hugs Mr. Hoppy closer. “He doesn’t yell.”

My heart shatters. I pull her closer, pressing my face into her hair to hide my tears. All this time I thought I’d protected her from the worst of it, but she’d seen more than I realized. Heard more than I’d known.

“And he makes you smile, Mommy.” She touches my cheek. “You didn’t smile before.”

I wipe my eyes, forcing a watery smile. “You’re right, baby. Mr. Gavin is very nice.”

“Can we go see Buttercup again soon?”

“Of course we can.” I kiss her forehead. “Now, should we pack your backpack for Ms. Lucy’s? Maybe we can bring some of your coloring books so you can make her a special picture?”

She scrambles off my lap. “Can I bring my new markers? The sparkly ones?”

“Sure can.” I stand up, my legs shaky. “And don’t forget Mr. Hoppy. I’m sure he’d love to help with the cake testing.”

As I help Sophie gather her things, my mind spins. Emma’s right, I can’t let Matt control our future forever. But it’s not just my future I’m worried about. It’s the little girl in front of me, carefully selecting which markers to bring, who’s already seen too much, heard too much.

Looking at her now, seeing her excited about baking and drawing and riding horses, I realize something. She’s healing. Faster than I am, but children are resilient that way, I suppose. They live in the present, while I’m still stuck in the past.

Maybe it’s time I took a page from my daughter’s book. Maybe it’s time to stop letting fear control what could be.

I check my phone, four hours until Gavin picks me up. Four hours to decide if I’m brave enough to let him see all of me, broken pieces and all.

“Mommy, can I bring Mr. Hoppy too?”

I smile, pushing aside my heavy thoughts. “Of course you can.”

She places him carefully inside her backpack. “Will you be back to tuck me in?”

“You bet. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.” I make an X over my chest, and she giggles.

“Can Mr. Gavin come say goodnight too?”

The innocent question catches me off guard. “Oh, honey, I don’t think-”

“Please? He does good monster checks. He showed me at the barn, remember?”

I remember. He’d made a show of checking behind hay bales and in empty stalls, declaring them “monster-free zones” while Sophie watched, giggling.

“We’ll see, baby. But for now, let’s focus on getting ready for your baking adventure with Ms. Lucy, okay?”

She nods, returning to her packing. I watch her, marveling at how easily children adapt, how freely they give their trust when shown kindness. Maybe I could learn something from that too.

Istand there, staring at the bright blue jumpsuit in my hands, the nylon material crinkling between my fingers. “So, we just put these on over our clothes?”

“That’s right,” Gavin says, already stepping into his with practiced ease. “They help with the aerodynamics in the wind tunnel. Makes the experience more authentic.” The material swishes as he moves.

I try to step into mine but get tangled up, hopping awkwardly on one foot like a flamingo trying to dance. The suit bunches around my ankles, refusing to cooperate. Gavin finishes zipping his suit with a swift motion and walks over, his eyes dancing with barely contained amusement.

“Need some help there?” he asks, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Maybe a little,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

---