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And Clair fills empty space with blame.

Russ taught her how. Her parents helped. Every flinch, every apology, every look she tries to swallow before anyone can see it tells me the same thing.

She does not need me to step closer.

Not yet.

But she does need to know stepping back is not rejection.

She needs proof.

Not pressure.

Proof she can hold in her hands when I am not standing too close, wanting too much, making her wonder what I expect in return.

Nothing.

That is what I expect.

Nothing she isn’t ready to give.

A letter will not fix everything, but maybe it can answer one lie. It can tell her fear is not all I see when I look at her. It can give her one more reason to believe she is worth training for.

Worth waiting for.

I drop the pen to the page.

Fuck it.

One piece of truth at a time.

TEN

DEAR CLAIR

CLAIR

Cool morning air presses against the windows, crisp enough to bite through the thin cracks where the old seals don’t quite hold. The car smells like cold vinyl, old coffee, and the faint sweetness of Poppy’s hair where she’s curled into me, one arm thrown across my middle, her face tucked into my side like she still fits there the way she did when she was little.

She doesn’t.

Not really.

Her legs are too long now. Her elbows are too sharp. She takes up more space than she used to, and I love every inch of it with a fierceness that almost hurts.

I stay beneath her weight. Her warmth. The soft puff of her breath against my ribs. Outside, a door creaks somewhere behind us. Someone coughs. The fire has burned down overnight to ash and blackened wood, only a faint thread of smoke twisting upward into the pale dawn light.

Poppy shifts, mumbles something against my shirt, and tightens her arm around me.

“I know,” I whisper, though I have no idea what she said.

She settles again.

Carefully, I ease out from under her. She makes a small annoyed sound, but I tuck the blanket around her shoulders and brush a loose strand of hair from her cheek. Her face softens, still young in sleep, still my baby no matter how much this world keeps trying to harden her.

My hand hovers near her cheek before I pull away.

Before fear sinks too deep.