The next day in the afternoon, Aiden sat on the floor of Blue’s playroom, his right hand still confined in a cast, awkward and foreign against his otherwise usual authority.

Blue had insisted he sit with her, so he did.

The building blocks were scattered in bright, mismatched piles across the rug…reds, blues, yellows, greens. Blue stacked them with determined concentration, her small tongue peeking out slightly at the corner of her mouth.

“Dad,” she said, pushing a tower toward him. ...