“Well, darling, I’m going to my room. Thelma will be keeping an eye on you,” Michelle says with a gentle smile, kissing our daughter on the forehead. Candace nods and watches her leave without losing her cheerfulness.
Once we’re alone, I sit on the edge of her bed, seeking comfort in her presence.
“Are you sad, Daddy?” she asks me with that knowing look.
I shook my head in response.
“No, I’m just tired, that’s it. Have you been feeling better?”
She tells me about the pain, how she’s slowly getting better, and that she’ll soon start rehab. I listen and try to remember every word.
“I’m so glad, darling. Candace… I want you to know you’re the best gift life has given me. Sometimes I think that having a daughter like you means maybe I’m not as bad a person as I believe.”
She looks at me
