James looked at her with both firmness and tenderness.

“Then tell her,” he said quietly. “But at the right time. You tried today, and she wasn’t ready. Her heart’s in pieces. She needs to process all of this—to cry, to be angry. It’s part of it. The truth, when it hits like an explosion, can terrify, can destroy… but it can also rebuild.”

Emma gripped the fabric of his shirt, silent, seeking comfort in the only place where love still lived.

“And what if she never listens to me?” she asked in a trembling voice. “What if she keeps hating me?”

“Then you wait,” James replied softly. “One day, the pain she feels will turn into longing… into curiosity… into the desire to understand. And when that day comes, you’ll be here, waiting for her—with open arms. Because that’s what mothers do.”

Emma’s sobs returned.

“I just wish I could hold her… once. Just once…”

James took her face in both hands and met her eyes.

“You will, Emma. Your daughter is strong. Sensitive, yes—but strong. And when the st