My new wife’s seven-year-old daughter burst into tears every time we were left alone together. Whenever I gently asked her what was wrong, she would only shake her head silently. My wife would just laugh it off and say, “She simply doesn’t like you.”

I walked down to her. Together, we watched a small green frog cling to a mossy stone.

“Do you think he’s scared?” Harper asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “But he knows where home is.”

She slipped her hand into mine.

Her grip was steady.

Trusting.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”