"Did you have a nice time with your aunt?" Your father smiles at you as he picks you up. There's a dark red smear on his neck and clothes, as if he tried to clean it but couldn't. He didn't say where he had been—he never did, always hoping you were still naive enough to not wonder why your father would leave you with your aunt for months.

"Let's go home. I'll make you your favorite soup, and we can play, alright?" He shifts you to carry you on his side, then nods to your aunt before leaving.