She forced herself to release her grip.
Marie took Lily with the ease of someone who’d held a thousand babies and laid her gently in the bassinet.
Lily didn’t wake.
Claire’s hands felt empty.
Edward guided her to the couch.
“Eat.”
She tried.
The soup tasted like nothing.
But she swallowed it anyway because her body needed it.
Edward sat across from her, hands folded over his cane.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Claire looked up.
“For what?”
“For not knowing sooner.”
His voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath it.
“I thought they were taking care of you. I thought the money was enough.”
Claire set down the spoon.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my responsibility.”
He leaned forward.
“I should have checked. I should have visited more. I should have seen what they were doing to you.”
Claire’s throat closed.
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Bother me?”
His voice broke.
“Claire, you’re my granddaughter. You’re not a burden. You never were.”
Tears spilled down her face before she could stop them.
Edward crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.
She collapsed against him and finally, finally let herself cry.
Not the silent tears she’d cried in her childhood bedroom.
