She stopped talking.
That was when I first felt uneasy.
Still, I got six children ready.
Found missing shoes.
Fixed Grace’s hair.
Made sure everyone had something clean to wear.
Richard left ahead of us.
“For photographs,” he said.
When we arrived, the auditorium was packed.
Teachers.
Parents.
Business owners.
A local reporter.
Richard stood near the stage in an expensive suit, laughing with the superintendent.
People kept shaking his hand.
I sat ten rows back with the children.
Then Mrs. Carter stepped to the microphone.
“Our Parent of the Year,” she announced, “is Richard Bennett, a remarkable father who somehow balances an extremely demanding career with raising six wonderful children.”
The room erupted in applause.
Richard walked onstage looking exactly as surprised as someone who had rehearsed being surprised.
He wiped at one eye as people raised their phones.
Then he took the microphone.
“People always ask me how I manage everything.”
My stomach tightened.
“There are nights I barely sleep.”
I almost laughed.
“Raising six children is the hardest job I’ve ever done, but they are worth every sacrifice.”
I looked around.
Nobody seemed to notice that the six children he was describing had a mother sitting alone in the audience.
Then Richard smiled.
“Come up here, kids.”
All six children walked onto the stage.
He hugged each of them while phones recorded.
Seven-year-old Lily looked thrilled.
Grace looked uncomfortable.
Claire, our oldest, looked directly at me.
Something in her expression stopped me.
Before I could understand it, Lily tugged Richard’s sleeve.
“Daddy?”
He bent toward her.
“Can I use the microphone?”
Richard laughed.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Then he added:
“Tell everyone how much you love Daddy.”
People chuckled.
Lily took the microphone with both hands.
She searched the audience until she found me.
Then she turned back to Richard.
“Daddy, do I still get the bike now?”
The room went silent.
Richard’s smile froze.
He crouched beside her.
