MY 4-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER POINTED AT MY BOSS’S EAR AND KEPT SAYING, “DADDY’S THERE” — BUT MY HUSBAND HAD PASSED AWAY, SO WHEN I LOOKED CLOSER, I COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT SHE WAS ACTUALLY POINTING AT.
The glass nearly slipped from my hand when Lily said it.
“Mommy…”
Her small fingers tightened around Gerald’s shirt.
“That’s Daddy.”
For a second, I thought I’d misheard her.
Music drifted across the pool. Someone laughed near the bar. Water shimmered under the string lights.
But Lily wasn’t looking at any of that.
She was staring at the side of Gerald’s head.
More specifically —
behind his ear.
Gerald went pale.
Not confused.
Not amused.
Pale.
And that frightened me far more than anything my daughter had just said.
Because Lily’s father had been dead for a year.
BEFORE THAT NIGHT
My name is Claire. I was thirty-four when all of this happened.
My husband, Nathaniel, had died
