Sophie sat cross-legged on the carpet by my feet, swinging her white shoes and humming to her flower crown.
« Mommy, is it crooked? »
I knelt down and straightened the little ring of daisies on her curls.
« Why can’t I call him Daddy? »
« Perfect. Now remember what we practiced. What do you call the tall man in the gray suit? »
She rolled her eyes the way only a five-year-old can.
« Evan. Just Evan. »
« That’s right, baby. »