When Camille went downstairs the next morning, she found the house empty, but she heard cheerful voices coming from the garden. She strolled into the kitchen and saw that Logan had made fresh coffee for her. He had also left her a note: Thought you might need this.

Smiling, she drank a few sips, and went towards the garden. Mia and Phillip were happily playing together, running around, laughing, while Logan sat on the porch swing, reading a book. Camille sat down next to him. "Good morning," she said and kissed him on the cheek. Logan smirked. "It's ten-thirty."

"It still counts."

Still smirking, Logan shook his head and turned a page in his book. Camille leaned in and wished that this moment would last forever. Even though Logan had done an excellent job of distracting her last night, in daylight the worries returned, and she knew she had to act . . .

After lunch they all sat comfortably at the kitchen table with a mug of hot chocolate and Camille knew she couldn't put it off any longer. She exchanged a look with Logan, and he understood, nodding at her. Camille turned to the children. "There's something I want to tell you."

"What is it, Mommy?" Phillip asked curiously.

"I . . . um . . . I will be away from home for a few days . . ."

"We are going on another trip?"

"Well, no Phillip, I'll go and-"

"But I can come with you, right, Mommy?"

Camille hesitated, looked at her son's expectant face, and wanted to run away. She couldn't do it. She didn't want to see the disappointment on that cute face that was so similar to Logan's, complete with dimples and the frown on his forehead when he was thinking about something.

"No, baby," she said quietly, trying to ignore the pain in her heart. "You will stay here, with your sister and your daddy."

It didn't take long for Phillip's little brain to process this news. His eyes widened in shock. "You're leaving us?"

Camille reached across the table for his small hand. "It won't be long, sweetheart, just a few days."

"No!" he shouted loudly, and jumped down from his chair, so impetuously that he knocked over his mug and spread the hot chocolate across the table. "I don't want that!"

"Phillip," Logan interjected. "You can't-"

"You're all stupid," Phillip shouted, running upstairs. Camille jumped up to follow him, but Logan rushed over and grabbed her arm. "Don't."

"Someone needs to talk to him."

"Yes, I know. But let me do this. It's better if-"

"No, I caused this mess, I'll make it right."

"But-"

"I'll do it."

Camille and Logan turned to Mia, who had now also stood up and was looking at her parents with a serious expression.

"That's really nice of you Mia," Logan began, "but it's not your job to do something like that."

She waved off. "It's okay, Dad. I don't mind."

She wanted to go to the stairs, Camille took a few steps forward. "Mia . . ."

Mia turned to her. "It's okay, Mom. Besides, Dad already told me."

Camille blinked. "He did – what?!" she glared at Logan, who reflexively raised his hands in defense. "Okay, before you get upset, let me tell you that I had my reasons for it and-"

"I can't believe this! How dare you-?"

Mia stared at her parents sullenly, then she decided that her brother was more important than her arguing parents at the moment and, without saying another word, she went up the stairs and to Phillip's room. She gently opened the door and entered. Phillip lay on his bed, crying softly, holding his Simba stuffed toy tightly in his arms.

"Hey, little lion," Mia said softly, using her very own and special pet name for her little brother.

"Go away," Phillip whined, turning on his side, away from her. "I don't wanna talk to you."

"That's fine," Mia assured and moved closer, settling on the other side of his bed. "Then I'll just sit here."

The seconds had turned into endless minutes until Phillip's little body finally nestled very carefully against his big sister. She put an arm around him. "There's no reason to cry, little lion."

Phillip sniffed. "Yes, there is. Mommy is going to leave us."

"But she will come back. It might only take a few days."

Phillip was silent.

"And besides, I'm here too. And I promise you that I'll do all the great things with you that Mom usually does. We'll have a great time. And Mom will be back in no time, you'll see."

"But why does she have to go anyway?"

"Well . . . Dad told me that . . . that grandpa Roberts is sick and in the hospital. And that's why Mom has to go there to take care of him, you know? Like she always takes care of us and Dad."

Phillip couldn't help but smile. "Mommy is great at taking care of people."

Mia laughed. "Yes, that's true."

Phillip tilted his head to look at her. "Mia?"

"Yes?"

"Were you serious? Do you really want to spend all this time with me, so I won't be so sad that Mommy's gone?"

"Of course I was serious."

"But . . . But won't I annoy you?"

Mia grinned. "Well, you're my little brother. And little brothers always annoy their older siblings. That's a rule. But luckily, I know what to do about it."

"What is that?"

"Well, this, of course," she said with a smirk and tickled his tummy. Phillip began squealing and squirming on the spot. "No, Mia, stop."

"Only if you promise not to be sad anymore."

"Okay, okay. I promise," he giggled, and Mia stopped. Phillip sat up and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for cheering me up, Mia. I love you."

"I love you too, my little lion. Very, very much."

"But . . . but what if I get sad again?"

"Then I'll do this." And she tickled her brother again, who immediately curled up, laughing.

"He's fine," Mia said to her parents as she came back into the kitchen. Her parents looked nervous and irritated, but also grateful.

"Thank you very much, my angel," Camille said, relieved. Mia nodded. "But it definitely won't help him if you two keep fighting."

They didn't respond, which didn't surprise Mia. "I promised Phillip I would play a game with him," she said and disappeared back upstairs. Camille crossed her arms. "Great, now our eight-year-old daughter has to take care of everything just because you-"

"Because I what?" Logan interrupted irritably. "Because I wanted to help you?"

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Really? That sounded completely different to me last night."

"You know what, Logan? Bite me. I told you I was going to tell them, but you - you haven't even apologized about it."

"I told Mia because I suspected that things would go badly with Phillip. At least she was prepared. I didn't want the situation to get any worse for you than it already is. Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe I should apologize. But I'm just apologizing for not telling you. Because I stand by my decision, I did it for you." And with that he disappeared into his office, closing the door behind him.

Camille stood there, trying to ignore the voice inside her that was telling her that Logan was right. He wanted to help her, wanted to save her from more troubles. Because that's how he was. In general, he always seemed reserved and passive, but when it came to his loved ones, he was always ready to step forward to help. And that was one of the – many – reasons why she loved him. And the last thing she wanted at that moment, the last thing she needed, was a stupid argument with Logan. Because she needed him. So she also went to his office and entered. He sat on the couch, his head in his hands. Without saying anything, she walked over to him, sat down next to him and placed her head on his lap. She always found it difficult to admit when she was wrong or to apologize in general. So, when she came over to him like this and cuddled with him without saying anything, Logan knew that she was actually there to tell him, or rather show him, that she was wrong. And he accepted her silent apology by leaning down and kissing her gently on the lips.

In the evening, Camille entered her son's room but then paused hesitantly at the open door. "Hey, sweetheart."

Phillip looked up from his picture book. "Mommy . . ." His voice sounded so fragile and pleading at the same time that Camille practically ran over to him and hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Mommy. So sorry."

"What are you sorry about, baby?"

"I was a bad child. I was mad at you. I yelled at you. That was wrong. I'm sorry."

"No, baby, no. Look . . ." She sat down next to him on the bed and pulled him onto her lap, he leaned his head against her chest. "Phillip, it is not wrong to be angry with your parents. On the contrary, everyone gets angry with their parents sometimes, and that's perfectly fine."

"Really?"

"Yes, dear."

"Have you ever been angry with your mommy and daddy?"

"Oh yes. Many, many times."

Phillip was silent for a moment, then he asked, "Is that the reason why I can't come with you? Because you're angry with grandpa Roberts?"

'Damn, that kid is smart,' Camille thought to herself. "Did Mia tell you about grandpa?"

Phillip nodded. "He's sick and in the hospital. And you have to go and take care of him. But how are you going to take care of him if you're mad at him?"

"You know, Phillip, you're right, I don't have the best relationship with my father, but when the family isn't doing well, then you have to help them, no matter what happened before. And I'm sure you'll have a lot more fun at home than with me in Connecticut."

"But I'll miss you."

Camille nodded and hugged him again. "I'll miss you too, very much. But we'll talk on the phone every day, okay? Then you can always tell me how your day was."

"Yes, we'll do that," Phillip said, nodding.

"I love you, sweetheart." She kissed the top of his head and Phillip put his arms around her. "I love you too, Mommy."

Camille closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of holding her son in her arms. When she thought she heard a movement outside the room, she opened her eyes again and looked up. Logan leaned in the doorway, watching the two of them with a gentle smile. Camille caught his gaze and silently mouthed the words: And I love you, too.

Logan nodded and blew her a kiss before he left. Camille had to grin. She had already been through so many ups and downs with her little family, but at the end of the day, they always made each other smile. Phillip picked up his picture book. "Will you read the book with me before I go to bed, Mommy?"

"Yes, honey. Happy to."

Camille closed her son's bedroom door and stood motionless in the hallway for several minutes until Logan's arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Long day, huh?"

She nodded. "And it's not over yet. I still have to check flights and hotels and I need to pack my things and I need to call my family and-"

"There's plenty of time for that tomorrow," Logan assured her in a whisper, rubbing his nose on the back of her neck. "Now you need some rest, we all do."

"But-"

"No buts. Time for bed. Come on."

"But I'm not tired."

Logan smiled. "Ah, I think we'll find a way to tire you out," he said teasingly, leading her down the hallway. They didn't know that Mia was standing behind her slightly opened door, watching her parents with a happy smile on her face.