“Mom?” she asked softly, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection. “Does it still count if Dad can’t go with me?”
The question landed harder than anything else had that day.
I sat beside her and gently smoothed a curl away from her face. “Of course it counts, sweetheart,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Your dad would want you to go. He’d want you to shine tonight.”
She looked down at her hands, thinking. “I want to do it for him,” she said. “Even if it’s just us.”
I nodded, swallowing the tightness in my throat. I could almost hear Samuel’s voice, as clear as if he were standing right behind me.
“I’ll take her to every father-daughter dance,” he had said once, grinning as Anna spun across the living room floor. “Every single one. That’s a promise.”
He had meant it. Of course, he had.
And now, somehow, it had become my responsibility to keep that promise alive.
