She simply watched people before deciding whether she trusted them.
That was how Claire entered our lives.
I met her in a toy store while trying desperately to find something special for Ari’s birthday.
I had been staring helplessly at a wall of stuffed animals when a woman behind the counter asked:
“Shopping for someone important?”
“My daughter.”
“How old?”
“Two.”
Claire looked toward Ari, who was hiding behind my leg.
Instead of immediately speaking to her, Claire crouched behind the counter.
A stuffed rabbit slowly appeared.
It looked left.
Then right.
Then whispered loudly:
“I don’t think anyone can see me.”
Ari stared.
The rabbit suddenly fell off the counter.
Claire made it pop back up.
“I meant to do that.”
Ari giggled.
Two minutes later, she was making the rabbit dance herself.
Claire looked at me and smiled.
“There she is.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Claire had understood immediately what most adults missed.
Ari didn’t need someone forcing her out of her shell.
She needed someone patient enough to wait for her to come out herself.
I returned to the store the following week because Ari insisted the rabbit probably missed us.
Coffee followed.
Then dinner.
Then long walks.
Eventually, something I had believed impossible began happening.
I started falling in love.
On our third date, I told Claire everything about Sarah.
I told her how she died.
