There were six daughters in total.
Six little girls who still needed help tying shoes, finishing homework, finding missing socks, brushing tangled hair, and understanding why their mother had suddenly stopped coming home…Elena left for Julian.
Her boss.
A man with money.
He became very good at excuses.
Not because Elena had given him any.
Because he was trying to protect six little girls from a truth they were too young to carry.
He worked double shifts.
He learned how to braid hair badly.
Then better.
He packed six lunches before sunrise.
He attended parent-teacher conferences with grease still under his fingernails from work.
He sat through dance recitals.
Volleyball games.
School plays.
Emergency room visits.
Breakups.
College applications.
He signed permission slips at midnight because someone always remembered them at the last second.
