into the dark, “Are you still my daddy?” The question split me open. I held her close and told her the only truth that mattered—one that would never change. “I always have been,” I said. “And I always will be.” She exhaled, the kind of breath only a child releases when they feel truly safe again. In that moment, things fell back into place—not because everything had been solved, but because our connection had held strong through the confusion.
In the weeks that followed, the house found its rhythm again.
