Adding little patches to cover the worst parts.
At some point, Robin stopped crying.
She even smiled a little when we added a tiny star-shaped patch over the torn sleeve.
“It’s… different now,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
When we were done, the jacket didn’t look new.
Not even close.
But it looked… stronger.
Like it had a story.
Before bed, I told her gently, “You don’t have to wear it again if you don’t want to.”
Robin looked at me like I’d said something ridiculous.
“I don’t care if they laugh,” she said. “It’s from my FAVORITE PERSON in the world.”
I didn’t trust my voice enough to respond.
The next morning, she put it on again.
Walked out the door like she always did.
And I stood there, watching her go, feeling proud… and worried.
An hour later, my phone rang.
The caller ID said “School.”
My stomach dropped.
For a split second, a hundred worst-case scenarios ran through my head.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
