They held each other.
Rachel stepped back and turned toward the window, giving them privacy. She could see the guards through the glass, watching carefully, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. But nothing was going wrong. A man on death row was crying silently into his daughter’s hair, and a child who hadn’t spoken in months was finally allowing herself to touch another human being without fear.
For a full minute, they didn’t speak at all.
Then Emily leaned close to her father’s ear, close enough that the words were barely audible, certainly not audible to anyone but him.
Rachel couldn’t hear what the child whispered. None of the guards could either. But she saw Daniel’s entire body go rigid. She saw his face go pale, the color draining from it like someone had opened a drain valve.
He pulled back just enough to look at Emily, holding her at arm’s length, his shackled hands making the gesture awkward and heart-breaking.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice breaking on every syllable. “Emily, are you absolutely sure?”
Emily nodded once, firmly.
