My husband walked onstage smiling broadly.
He wiped his eyes as phones rose around the auditorium.
“People always ask how I manage it all,” he began. “Honestly, there are nights I barely sleep. Raising six children is the hardest job I’ve ever done, but they’re worth every sacrifice.”
I wondered whether anyone remembered those six children had a mother sitting ten rows away alone.
My stomach turned.
I wondered whether anyone remembered those six children had a mother sitting ten rows away alone.
Then Richard smiled toward the wings.
“Come up here, kids.”
All six walked onto the stage.
He hugged them one by one while phones lifted across the auditorium. Lily looked thrilled. Grace looked uncomfortable.
“Of course, sweetheart. Tell everyone how much you love Daddy.”
Claire, our oldest, looked at me instead of him.
Her expression stopped me cold.
Before I could understand why, seven-year-old Lily tugged Richard’s sleeve.
“Daddy, can I have the microphone? There’s one little detail.”
Richard laughed into his own mic.
“Of course, sweetheart. Tell everyone how much you love Daddy.”
She searched the room until she found me.
Lily took it carefully with both small hands and turned toward the audience.
She searched the room until she found me.
Then her smile faded.
“Daddy, do I still get the bike now?”
The auditorium went silent.
Richard crouched beside her.
Someone in the front row gasped.
“What bike, sweetheart?”
Lily frowned.
“The pink one. You said if we told Mrs. Carter you always help us, you’d get it.”
Someone in the front row gasped.
Richard straightened.
Before anyone could respond, ten-year-old Sam spoke from behind Grace.
“She misunderstood,” he said quickly.
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