I stayed quiet.
Then she said:
“I wanted to see if I could.”
I opened the other chair.
She came in.
We sat together for a while.
We arranged support with a child counselor.
Miriam and I attended the first conversation without Ella.
We explained what happened as accurately as we could.
The money.
The prices.
The record of visits.
Our own separation and the ways Ella had learned to avoid making either home uncomfortable.
We wanted help responding without making every interaction about the incident.
Ella was told she would meet someone who helped children think through confusing things.
She asked whether the counselor cost money.
The question stopped both of us.
Miriam answered.
“The adults arrange that.”
“Do I owe?”
“No.”
“Even if I talk lots?”
“Even then.”
We made sure the explanation stayed clear.
The appointment was not another lesson about using less of someone’s time.
She could ask questions.
She could draw.
She could decline to discuss something and be helped to find a comfortable pace.
After the first visit, she wanted lunch.
A cheese sandwich.
No grand reward.
No toy to celebrate cooperation.
Just lunch.
At the café, I asked whether she wanted me beside her or opposite.
“Beside.”
I moved.
She ate half the sandwich.
Then leaned against my arm while looking out the window.
I did not ask what she had told the counselor.
She would share what she wanted.
My job was not to collect every detail.
It was to become safer to tell.
Seraphina’s explanation changed after she spoke to someone advising her.
She said the money was never intended as payment for affection.
It was a temporary structure.
A lesson about appointments.
A way to help Ella distinguish between needing attention and wanting it.
I listened.
