“Oh,” she whispered. “Look at you.”
Ethan slept through the admiration.
Marisol looked at me.
“Have you seen Logan?”
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s still allowed.”
I leaned back.
“Everybody keeps telling me that.”
“Good. Eventually you might believe us.”
I told her the story about Margaret and Elizabeth.
Marisol listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she looked down at Ethan.
“So Dr. Wright cried because this little face reminded him of his wife.”
“Yes.”
“And Logan spent half his life angry at a father who had made mistakes, while also carrying a secret about having another father.”
“Yes.”
“And then he ran from becoming a father himself.”
I sighed.
“When you say it like that, it sounds exhausting.”
“Families usually do when summarized.”
I laughed.
Then Marisol became serious.
“Joanna, understanding why somebody hurt you is not the same as deciding they can’t hurt you again.”
