We said our goodbyes, polite but no longer apologetic, and walked out together.
“Your daughter’s remarkable, Stella. So are you.”
***
In the car, Audrey twisted the letter in her hands. “Are you mad at me for what I said?”
I glanced over, catching her worried eyes in the mirror. “No, honey. Not even a little. You said what needed to be said. I’ve never been prouder.”
She looked so much like Daniel then that it caught me in the chest, the same stubborn chin, the same quiet fire when something mattered.
She let out a shaky breath, the tension leaving her shoulders. “I thought I might cry. I almost didn’t say anything at all.”
I squeezed her knee. “Sometimes doing the right thing is scary. But you were so brave.”
“Are you mad at me for what I said?”
She smiled, finally relaxing. “Can we have pancakes for dinner tomorrow?”
“Only if you promise not to make me do the dishes,” I teased.
She giggled, already herself again.
***
