I remembered that notebook.
Mark had given it to Sophie on her sixth birthday.
He’d told her to write down everything she wanted them to do together once he recovered.
She’d filled it with drawings.
Promises.
Little dreams.
Now she turned to the first page.
“Walk to school with Daddy.”
Then another.
“Go swimming together.”
Another.
“Daddy will push me on the swings.”
“I crossed that one out,” Sophie explained. “I’m too big now.”
Mark rubbed his forehead.
“Sweetheart, please.”
She turned to a page decorated with pink flowers.
“Daddy will come to my dancing show and stand up to clap.”
Then she looked at him.
“I don’t need all those things anymore.”
Mark seemed relieved.
“Good. We’ll talk another time.”
Sophie shook her head.
“I just want one thing.”
“What?”
Sophie looked at his suitcase.
“You said when you could walk, we’d finally go places together.”
She looked back at him.
“So why are you going without me?”
Silence.
For a second, I thought Mark might hug her.
Instead, he exploded.
“Oh, God, no! Sophie, don’t start this!”
His voice was so loud that our neighbor’s porch light came on.
Sophie flinched.
“Please, Daddy. I won’t ask for anything else.”
Mark turned toward me.
“Sarah, do something! I have a right to my own life!”
He grabbed his suitcase.
