“WELCOME HOME, DADDY.”
That part was not a joke. I wanted Daniel to see the children he had chosen not to know.
At the airport, the automatic doors opened and passengers entered the arrivals hall. Daniel saw me first, then noticed the stroller and stopped walking.
A woman stood beside him, holding a suitcase. She looked at me, then at the sign, and finally at the three babies.
“Oh,” she said.
“Daniel?” I called.
He drew a breath and straightened his shoulders.
“Helen. I did not know you were coming.”
“I thought your daughters might want to meet their father.”
The woman turned sharply toward him.
“Daughters?”
Daniel remained silent. That pause told both of us everything.
The woman faced me.
“I am Claire,” she said carefully. “Daniel told me the two of you were separated.”
