The father smiled shakily, rubbing his eyes. “We’ve been sleeping in shifts because she wakes up crying.”
Marcus turned his head slightly, keeping his voice professional but kind. “If you don’t mind me saying—don’t talk about ‘big trouble’ around her without explaining. Their imaginations fill in the blanks.”
The parents nodded quickly.
The little girl sniffled again, then looked up at Marcus with cautious curiosity. “Are you… mad?”
Marcus shook his head. “I’m proud of you.”
That word landed like a warm blanket. Her eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth trembled like they were deciding whether it was safe to smile.
Tessa leaned over the desk and pulled out a small sticker sheet—stars, smiley faces, tiny police cars. She peeled one off and offered it.
“For bravery,” she said.
The little girl stared at it, then at Marcus, silently asking permission.
Marcus nodded. “You earned it.”
She took it with both hands as if it were a medal, then pressed it onto the rabbit’s forehead.
“There,” she whispered. “Now Bunny brave too.”
The lobby exhaled in unison.
The parents stood to leave, the father still holding their daughter close. The mother lingered a second and looked at Marcus with a gratitude that was almost painful.
“I feel silly for bringing her here,” she admitted.
