He smoothed her hair, then tucked Commander Flops where the nurses said it would be safe. On the way out, he stopped and turned back. "We haven't finished our rocket," he told her. "You promised you'd paint the windows purple. I'm holding you to that."
The door closed behind him. Jack stood with his back against the wall until his knees began to shake. Claire guided him to the waiting area without touching him, understanding that the last thing he needed was another person moving his body without asking. She brought him a paper cup of water, and he held it without drinking.
"You can go home," he said after a while, noticing her gray coat folded over a chair. "You don't have to stay because of me."
"I'm staying because I'm part of Lily's team. And because I need to know how she does."
He looked at her with exhausted suspicion. "Do you always tell parents that?"
Claire thought carefully. "Sometimes I say it because it's true. Sometimes I say it because I want them to feel less alone. Tonight it's both."
Jack glanced toward the corridor. "Mara used to tell me I was terrible at asking for help." He hadn't intended to mention his wife's name, and the sound of it made him stop. "I'd rather spend all night fixing a thing than admit I didn't understand it."
"Who was Mara?" Claire asked.
"Lily's mom." He stared at the water in his cup. "She died four years ago. The highway was icy. A driver coming the other direction lost control, and there wasn't enough road for either of them."
Claire went still. She had seen the way Jack guarded his daughter, but she had not realized that Lily was the only person left in his immediate family. "I'm sorry," she said. It was not enough, but she meant it. "How old was Lily?"
"Four. Just old enough to remember her mother's singing. Last week Lily asked me if people in heaven get cold when it snows." He tried to smile and failed. "I told her I figured they had better coats than us."
The sentence settled between them. Jack turned the cup slowly in his hands, watching the reflection of the overhead lights move across the water. "After Mara died, I made promises I couldn't possibly guarantee. I told Lily I would always come home, always answer when she called, always be there when she was sick. I thought if I worked hard enough, I could keep the world small and safe for her."
"You kept the promises you could control," Claire said. "That matters."
"Does it matter if I lose her anyway?"
Claire looked toward the closed doors. She did not want to tell him that everything happened for a reason or that suffering made people stronger. She had never believed those things, and no amount of medical training had made them sound kinder. "I think it matters especially then," she said. "But I'm going to spend tonight hoping that's a question you don't have to answer."