Chapter 9 - The Question in Pink
The sound of small shoes scraping against the curb was almost lost in the rustle of the oak canopy, but it was enough to make Marcus look up. The security guard saw Violet approaching, her pink dress glowing like a beacon against the gray pavement, and he immediately stepped aside, bowing his head in quiet deference to the daughter of the house.
Violet walked slowly, each step an agonizing effort of will. Her knees felt weak beneath her tulle skirt. Her pink backpack hung low against her shoulders, the satin ribbons dragging slightly. Her tear-streaked face was pale, her large brown eyes reflecting the golden sun and the scene she was walking into.
Dominic was still crouched beside Zoe, his hand resting gently near the taped seam of the little girl’s pack, his face turned sideways in profile. That profile—the wide, relaxed curve of his lips, the light in his eyes—was burned into Violet’s memory from a lifetime ago.
She stopped three feet away from the open car door. The autumn breeze caught a loose strand of her brown hair, whipping it across her wet cheek.
Dominic, sensing a presence behind him, began to turn. The warmth had not yet faded from his features; the smile was still playing across his lips as he prepared to greet whoever had approached his private circle. He expected another child, perhaps a parent, or simply Marcus notifying him of the schedule.
Instead, his gray eyes met the tear-drenched face of his daughter.
The golden light hit Violet’s shimmering pink dress, illuminating the bows, the sparkling fabric, and the trembling of her small hands. She was clutching the pink straps to her chest like a shield, her lower lip quivering with an intensity that threatened to shatter her entire face.
The courtyard around them went dead silent. Zoe paused her bouncing, sensing the sudden, sharp shift in the air.
May you like
Violet looked directly into the face she had loved and feared in equal measure for two agonizing years. She looked at the smile that she had begged God to see again, the smile that was currently fading from his lips as he processed her presence. The dam broke inside her eight-year-old soul, and the question that had poisoned her silence for seven hundred days finally tore its way out of her chest.
"Daddy..." Violet said, her voice small, fragile, and cracked with an ancient, devastating sorrow that echoed through the golden afternoon. "Why can you smile for her... but not for me?"
