The paper shook in his hands.
Then a door opened upstairs.
—
Footsteps came down the staircase.
A small girl appeared.
Nine years old.
Wide dark eyes.
She stopped halfway down.
Luke stood.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Emma’s face crumpled.
She turned around and ran back upstairs.
Luke looked shattered.
“I knew it,” he whispered.
“She hates me.”
But seconds later, footsteps thundered overhead.
Emma came racing back.
She was carrying something.
A battered gray stuffed rabbit.
One ear barely attached.
Luke stopped breathing.
Emma held it up.
“You gave me Mr. Buttons.”
Her voice trembled.
“You told me he would keep me safe until you came back.”
Luke covered his mouth.
Then Emma ran down the remaining stairs.
Straight toward him.
Luke dropped to his knees and caught her.
They wrapped their arms around each other.
Both sobbing.
The old rabbit trapped between them.
I looked away.
That moment didn’t belong to me.
