Game over.
There is no judgment in his eyes, only a quiet reminder that I do not have to do this alone, that together we can give the children what they need most: safety in the form of a story, comfort wrapped in words softer than reality.
So, I smooth Connor’s hair back from his forehead and smile, though it trembles at the edges, and I tell them yes, I saw the sharks. Their gasps fill the hall, Connor’s mouth dropping open in awe while Carmen claps her hands together in delight. To them, this is not horror. It is a wonder. Connor’s eyes shine as he asks again, with even greater urgency, “Were they stronger than Daddy? Did they look scarier than him when he gets mad?” He puffs out his little chest, c