“No,” I answered quickly. “She’s still adjusting.”
I kept coming up with excuses.
She misses how things used to be.
Eventually she’ll warm up to him.
But honestly, my daughter had never acted that cold toward anyone before, not even Donald after the divorce.
A few nights later, after Ryan had gone home, Ava stood quietly in the doorway of my bedroom, twisting the sleeve of her hoodie while I folded laundry. Instantly, I felt uneasy.