The film continued.
The room held its warm dimness around them, the light from the screen moving softly across their faces, and Sera sat with her granddaughter in her arms and wished with everything she had that she could simply absorb what the child was carrying, take it into herself and spare the girl the particular education of learning, too young, that the people who love you are also imperfect.
She could not do that.
No one could.
She could only stay. Hold firmly. Let her know without words that she was loved completely and held safely, and that what had frightened her in that bedroom belonged to the man who said it, not to the truth of how she was regarded.
Sera pressed her lips softly to the top of Takoda's head and kept her hand moving, slow and steady.
For this moment, that was enough.
