If he'd returned at six instead of three.
If Mason hadn't recorded anything.
Or if Lily had stopped telling people she was hungry because she believed asking would only lead to punishment.
Those questions frightened him.
But his counselor encouraged him to distinguish useful reflection from endless self-punishment.
Marcus couldn't protect Lily by repeatedly imagining the worst possible outcomes.
He could protect her by remaining attentive now.
So on that Saturday, he made pancakes.
Lily helped stir the batter.
She wore a pale-yellow shirt and an apron decorated with little strawberries.
Marcus placed a bowl of sliced bananas beside the mixing bowl.
Then asked whether she wanted to help arrange them on the plates.
Lily nodded enthusiastically.
They worked together.
A few minutes later, she looked toward the pantry.
"Daddy?"
Marcus turned.
"Yes?"
"Can I get the cinnamon?"
He smiled.
"Of course. It's on the middle shelf."
Lily hurried toward the pantry.
She opened the door.
Reached for the small container.
Then returned to the kitchen island.
There was no hesitation.
No frightened glance.
No waiting for permission beyond an ordinary question about helping prepare breakfast.
Marcus watched her.
For a moment, he felt his eyes sting.
The child who once begged for one cracker was now confidently reaching into the pantry to help make pancakes.
It was such a small moment.
But he knew how much had changed for her to feel safe doing it.
Lily noticed his expression.
"Why are you smiling?"
Marcus laughed softly.
"Because I'm happy."
She grinned.
"Because of pancakes?"
He nodded.
"Partly."
She considered that.
Then sprinkled far too much cinnamon onto one pancake.
Marcus laughed.
Lily laughed too.
And the kitchen filled with a sound he hadn't heard often enough during the previous year.
Carefree happiness.
Later that afternoon, Marcus took Lily to visit her mother's grave.
It wasn't an anniversary.
No special date required the visit.
Lily had simply asked whether she could bring flowers.
Marcus agreed.
They stopped at a small florist and selected white daisies and purple carnations.
Lily carried the bouquet carefully during the drive.
At the cemetery, they walked along a quiet path beneath tall trees.
The afternoon was warm.
Birds moved between branches.