As Patricia slipped out the door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I climbed the stairs, the familiar creak under my weight resonating in the silent house. Reaching Valentina’s room, I knocked lightly before pushing the door open.
Her room was a galaxy of pink and purple, filled with toys and fantasies painted on every wall. Valentina was sitting on her bed, a book open on her lap, but her eyes quickly darted to me, and a smile spread across her face—though it seemed smaller, less bright than usual.
“Daddy!” she said, but the joy in her voice was muted. She slid off the bed and ran to me, her hug fierce and tight, as if she was trying to anchor herself to me.
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