Charlotte

***

"Who's this?"

The face in the photo instantly froze my heart with grief.

"That's my sister. Olivia."

She pointed to the children in front of her, and I couldn't reply for tears. I turned the photo over and she laboriously spelt out the names.

"Olivia… Emily and,… Chloe." Each name towed a caravan of memories. "They're your family?"

"They used to be," I whispered, letting the tears just flow, "They died. In an accident."

She stared at the picture.

"You miss them," she said softly.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling at her, "I always will."

"I miss my Daddy."

I wondered why she never spoke of her mother this way. Did she not miss her too? Did she not think it was acceptable to miss her? Or was she angry with her for having left?

"Yeah, honey, I bet you do," I sighed, drawing her into a hug, as much for me as for her, "We'll find him."

"We can't find him!" she wailed suddenly, throwing the photo to the floor, "He told me to wait, and I did, but I couldn't wait anymore, and I moved, and now he won't find me!"

She dissolved into sobs, and I rocked her, listening intently. This was the most she'd ever told me about what happened, and I wasn't going to interrupt her for anything.

"He won't ever find me," she wept. There had to be a way, I thought. There was no way he doesn't want to find her. I couldn't accept that. So there had to a way.

"What if... what if he didn't come back because he's dead?" she whispered, one hand clutching my top and the other curling into her stomach.

"No, I don't think he's dead, honey," I replied.

"How do you know?"

"That sort of thing just doesn't happen. People don't just walk away and die. They searched all the hospitals, the police reports, there was nothing about anyone that could have been your Daddy. If he was dead they would have found him. I reckon he got held up somehow, and now he's missing you just as much as you're missing him, and he'll be crazy worried about you, and he'll be looking for you everywhere. We've just got to figure out how to find him too."

"We can't find him," she whispered sadly.

"I think we've got to try?"

"No, we can't find him!"

I battled my frustration. How on earth were we supposed to find him if she didn't even believe we would? Or was it that she didn't think we should? But that made no sense.

"Ok, alright, but we can help him find us, right?"

She didn't reply, looking uncertain. But she hadn't said we couldn't. I'd take that as a yes.