Where fear ends
It’s for presence.
So I just stay still, holding her hand, letting the silence do what words can’t.
Eventually, she pulls her hand back slowly, tucks it in her lap. Her fingers aren’t hidden anymore, though. She doesn’t pull the sleeves down.
She stares straight ahead, not at me, but I can see it in the way her lips tremble.
“I didn’t…” she starts, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t get scared. Not all the way.”
I look at her, heart full. “I know. You did great.”
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