Page 50 of The Widower
The little girl looked at me for several long seconds, and it completely threw me off. There was something about her eyes—so pure, so honest—that stripped me of all my defenses. When Hanna looked at me, it was like she could see right through me... into a part of myself I couldn’t even find anymore.
“Okay, Uncle Colin,” she finally said.
We stayed at the playground for a few more minutes, saying nothing. The silence felt oddly heavy, maybe because I’d said too much again. Apparently, I was learning from Isabelle—talking too much, and always at the worst times.
“I’m sleepy,” she murmured, standing up from the swing and stretching her little arms toward me.
At first, I didn’t get it, but then it hit me—she wanted me to pick her up. I hesitated for a moment, then gave in.
I still didn’t know where to take her.
Or maybe... I did.
I walked down the hallways I usually avoided, the ones I hadn’t stepped through in a long time, and laid Hanna on my late daughter’s bed. She must’ve been exhausted—she fell asleep before we even got there.
I stood there for a while, watching her breathe, and tried to make sense of why she affected me so much. Hanna didn’t look like Maddison, and I’d been around other kids before—not many, but enough to know I never reacted like this.
Something about her was different. Something I couldn’t quite name yet.
I was taking a break from work.
I decided to walk through the garden and soon ran into Helen, who was smiling even more than usual. She was a naturally cheerful woman, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit envious whenever I saw her like that. I wished I could be that kind of person—happy—but after everything that’s happened, that kind of peace feels like a luxury I’ll never have again.
“Would it be wrong to say I was watching you and the little girl at the park for a few minutes?”
“Yes, Helen. Very wrong. But don’t worry—I won’t fire you for it.”I smiled, and she did too.
I wasn’t upset. Not even close. Hanna had this strange ability to bring out something good in me—something I honestly thought was long gone.
“She’s such a sweetheart,” Helen said. “Even though she’s so little, she never stops talking. She loves chatting with everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knows every single person in the house.”
“Yeah, Hanna talks a lot—usually when she shouldn’t,” I said, remembering the last few days.
“But out of everyone,” she continued, “the person she likes the most is you.”
“I just play with her at the playground.I guess that earns me some points,” I deflected.
“No, Colin. She looks for you every single day. Sometimes we even have to tell her you’re not home, or she’d never leave you alone.”
“Seriously?” I asked, genuinely surprised.
“Mm-hm. Isabelle goes crazy over it,” she said with a knowing smile, glancing toward the kitchen, where Isabelle had just appeared. “She worries too much. Hates it when Hanna interrupts you, even when you’re not doing anything important. That’s just how she is. Isabelle’s a good woman—she really tries to do her job the right way.”
Deep down, I already knew that. I knew I’d been too hard on her—threatened her too often, pushed too far. But I understood her, at least a little. I knew life hadn’t been kind to her, especially after being left to fend for herself.
“Hanna’s... very special to me,” I said before realizing the words had slipped out.
“I can tell,” Helen replied softly.“And I think, with time, that bond will only grow stronger.”
I felt lighter once I got back to work, finally pushing through the part I’d been stuck on. Turns out, a good day actually helped for once. I just couldn’t let myself believe that would happen often—my experience with “good days” usually doesn’t end well.
Getting my hopes up is a damn mistake, and that’s why I keep my guard up about everything.
When I checked my watch, it was already past five. I told Helen to keep an eye on Hanna and help her out when she woke up. I figured the little one was still in the bedroom, sound asleep.
Technically, she was the only one allowed to walk through those halls, but apparently, Hanna wasn’t a fan of rules—she’d been wandering around there more than I realized.
I decided to get up and stretch my legs. Before anything else, I went to my daughter’s room, but Hanna wasn’t there. A miracle, honestly—she was awake and hadn’t called me to play.
