of a cozy building decorated with wreaths and string lights.
A brass plaque by the door read:
Molly H. — Family & Child Therapy
My knees nearly buckled.
Through the window, I saw Dan sitting stiffly on a couch. Ruby swung her legs happily. And Molly—real, calm, professional—knelt in front of my daughter, smiling as she held a plush reindeer.
