“My sister-in-law has an apartment nearby when she visits for work. It is empty this week.”
“Does anyone know the address?”
“Only family.”
Mercer looked toward Emma.
“Family can be exactly what you need right now.”
I called Rachel.
She answered with sleep in her voice despite the time difference.
“Daniel? Is Emma okay?”
The concern came so quickly that I realized how long I had waited to involve her.
“She’s safe. But something happened at school.”
By the time I finished explaining, Rachel was no longer sleepy.
“I’m flying in.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Rachel—”
“She is Claire’s daughter, and she is my family. Stop treating help like a weakness.”
The words carried no anger, only weary affection.
Claire had said something similar many times.
I looked at Emma, who was watching me closely.
“All right,” I said. “Come.”
Rachel arrived that evening with one suitcase, an oversized handbag, and the same bright red scarf she had worn to every winter holiday for ten years.
Emma ran to her in the airport terminal.
Rachel dropped the suitcase and opened her arms.
“My favorite person,” she said, lifting Emma despite the fact that Emma’s feet nearly reached the floor now.
“You say that to Dad too.”
“No, I tell your dad he is my favorite difficult person.”
