She admitted the secret meetings had happened several times.
She admitted Tessa had been given cover stories before.
She admitted she had convinced herself that because Tessa was mature and Miles was usually easy, leaving them briefly wasn’t the same as truly leaving them alone.
She admitted she had been wrong.
I didn’t need a dramatic confession beyond that.
I needed behavior to change.
I canceled training sessions I couldn’t cover safely.
I rearranged what I could.
I made sure Miles’s care no longer depended on a nine-year-old filling whatever gap the adults had created.
Most importantly, I stopped asking Tessa questions about what her mother had done.
She had already carried enough information for adults.
When she volunteered something, I listened.
When she didn’t, I left it alone.
One evening she asked me whether she should have called sooner.
I was washing Miles’s bottle at the sink.
