The next morning, too consumed by fear and heartbreak to think straight, I confronted Jack — only to be whisked away to Mia’s school instead of getting an explanation at home. There, I met Clara, Mia’s teacher, the woman from the drawing, whose kindness and familiar presence shattered my defenses. It wasn’t betrayal that loomed over us but the innocent heartbreak of a little girl missing her mom.

Mia, feeling abandoned amid my endless work hours, had latched onto Clara as a source of warmth and attention. Overwhelmed with guilt and love, I realized that the enemy wasn’t Jack, Clara, or even circumstance — it was my own absence. That night, with ice cream sundaes and tearful hugs, Mia and I began mending the bond that truly mattered, one sweet, healing moment at a time.