Chapter 6
The first time Ruby walked into Dr. Maya Thompson's office, she refused to let go of my hand.
Her new brace was secured around her injured lower leg.
She moved carefully with her crutches.
Her pale-pink dress had been replaced by comfortable leggings and a yellow sweater.
But her eyes still carried fear.
"Daddy, do I have to talk?"
I knelt beside her.
"No, baby."
Dr. Thompson smiled warmly.
"You can talk, draw, or just sit with us."
Ruby looked at her.
"Can I draw?"
"Absolutely."
The office was bright.
Shelves held books, toys, and coloring supplies.
A small table stood near the window.
Ruby sat down slowly.
Dr. Thompson gave her paper and crayons.
I remained nearby.
For several minutes, my daughter drew quietly.
Then Dr. Thompson asked:
"Ruby, what are you drawing?"
Ruby held up the paper.
It showed a house.
A little girl.
And a large figure standing in front of a door.
Dr. Thompson smiled gently.
"Who is that?"
Ruby pointed.
"That's Daddy."
"And what is Daddy doing?"
Ruby's voice became very small.
"Keeping the bad lady out."
My throat tightened.
I looked down at my hands.
Dr. Thompson didn't rush her.
"That sounds important."
Ruby nodded.
"She can't come back."
I swallowed hard.
Dr. Thompson glanced toward me.
Then she asked:
"Does Daddy help you feel safe?"
Ruby nodded immediately.
"Yes."
For the first time in days, I felt a small piece of hope.
The session continued.
Ruby talked about missing her mother.
About her injured leg.
About being frightened when adults raised their voices.
She didn't tell everything.
Dr. Thompson didn't pressure her.
At the end, she asked whether Ruby wanted to come back.
My daughter nodded.
"Can Daddy come too?"
Dr. Thompson smiled.
"Of course."
Outside, Ruby looked up at me.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, princess?"
"I like Dr. Maya."
I smiled.
"I'm glad."
She took my hand.
"She didn't get mad when I cried."
I stopped walking.
Those words hit me harder than I expected.
I knelt beside her.
"Ruby, crying is never something you have to be ashamed of."
She nodded slowly.
Then she hugged me.
I held her carefully.
And I promised myself that she would hear those words as often as she needed.
That afternoon, Marcus called.
The police had interviewed several witnesses from the party.
Two guests had recorded portions of the confrontation.
One video showed Lucinda pulling the brace away.
Another showed Ruby falling.
The footage supported what I had reported.
Investigators were also reviewing the damaged brace and medical records.
I listened quietly.
"Does that mean she's going to be arrested?"
Marcus answered carefully.
"Charging decisions are up to the authorities."
I nodded.
"Okay."
He continued.
"Daniel, I also want to discuss the school enrollment documents."
My stomach tightened.
"What about them?"
"Lucinda signed forms claiming she had legal authority over Ruby."
"I know."
"That may have consequences beyond the incident at the party."
I swallowed.
"Good."
Marcus paused.
"There's something else."
I gripped the phone.
"What?"
"The school received an email supposedly from you."
I froze.
"From me?"
"Yes."
"What did it say?"
Marcus took a breath.
"It stated that Ruby's behavior had become unmanageable and that you wanted her placed in a structured residential environment."
My heart nearly stopped.
"I never wrote that."
"I know."
He continued.
"We're working to establish how it was sent."
I sat down.
Lucinda hadn't simply suggested sending Ruby away.
She had tried to make it look as though I wanted it.
I imagined my daughter receiving a letter saying her father had decided she couldn't live at home.
The thought made me sick.
"Marcus, please tell me none of this can happen."
He spoke firmly.
"The school has confirmed there was no valid enrollment and no placement. Ruby remains in your care."
I exhaled.
"Thank God."
But the fear stayed with me.
Because Lucinda had gone further than I ever imagined.
She had tried to rewrite my relationship with my daughter.
To make Ruby believe I had rejected her.
I ended the call.
Then I went into the backyard.
Ruby sat beneath the shade of a large tree.
Denise was helping her paint a wooden birdhouse.
My daughter looked up.
"Daddy!"
I smiled.
"Hey, baby."
She held up the birdhouse.
"It's for Mommy."
My heart softened.
"For Mommy?"
Ruby nodded.
"So the birds can live near her flowers."
Naomi had loved flowers.
Before she died, she had planted roses along the back fence.
Every spring, they bloomed.
Ruby believed the birds liked visiting her mother's garden.
I sat beside her.
"That's beautiful, sweetheart."
She smiled.
"Can we hang it together?"
"Absolutely."
Denise handed me the birdhouse.
We carefully secured it to a low branch.
Ruby watched from her chair.
When we finished, she clapped.
"Mommy would like it."
I swallowed.
"She would love it."
That evening, after Ruby went to bed, Denise sat with me on the porch.
She handed me a cup of tea.
"How was therapy?"
I smiled faintly.
"Better than I expected."
Denise nodded.
"Good."
We sat quietly.
Then she looked at me.
"Daniel, have you thought about getting help for yourself?"
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"You've been carrying a lot."
I looked toward the house.
"I need to focus on Ruby."
Denise touched my arm.
"You can do both."
I didn't answer.
She continued.
"You lost Naomi. You tried to build another family. Then someone you trusted hurt your child."
My throat tightened.
"That's a lot for one person."
I stared at the garden.
She was right.
I had been so focused on being strong that I hadn't allowed myself to feel anything except anger and guilt.
The next morning, I scheduled an appointment with a counselor.
It wasn't easy.
But I knew Ruby needed a father who could handle his emotions without making her responsible for them.
A week later, Marcus called again.
This time, his voice was serious.
"Daniel, Lucinda has been interviewed by investigators."
I sat upright.
"What did she say?"
"Her attorney disputes the allegations."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Marcus continued.
"However, there is additional evidence concerning the brace."
My heart began pounding.
"What evidence?"
"A store receipt."
I frowned.
"For what?"
Marcus paused.
"Replacement straps and cutting tools were purchased two days before the party."
I stared at the wall.
"By Lucinda?"
"The purchase was made using a card in her name."
I felt a chill.
She had prepared.
She hadn't simply lost her temper.
She had planned something involving Ruby's brace.
And suddenly, the entire confrontation in the party room looked different.
The argument.
The accusation that Ruby was pretending.
The forced removal.
The public humiliation.
It might all have been part of something deliberate.
I looked toward Ruby's bedroom.
May you like
And I knew we were closer to the truth.
But I still couldn't understand what Lucinda hoped to gain by hurting a seven-year-old child.
