making up stories about angels. If weâd put her in a public school the way I wanted, maybe sheâd be a little more down-to-earth.â
âThey donât think sheâs making it up.â
Kemp blinked. âThey believe she saw an angel?â
âThey think she believes itâthatâs why theyâre concerned.â
âCâmon, itâs just a story. The kid tells stories all the time.â
âThey know that, Kemp. Give them a little credit, will you?
They know Leah and theyâve heard her stories beforeâthis one sounded different somehow. Her teacher wants to meet with us Tuesday morning.â
âIâll be asleep Tuesday morning. I have a shift the night before.â
âWhatâs wrongâworking too hard with your little movie star? I never saw you show so much interest in a patient before.â
âGive me a break.â
âThey want to see us both, Kemp.â
âYou said this was a parent-teacher conference. Did they say anything about boyfriends? Domestic partners? Significant others?â
âKemp, donât you dareââ
âWhatâs the big deal, anyway? Whatâs so different about this story? What does she say she saw?â
Natalie glared at him. âIf youâre really interested, why donât you ask her yourself?â
âOkay, I will.â He turned and shouted to the back of the house, âHey, Leah, come here for a minute!â
âYou be gentle with her,â Natalie warned. âRemember what the counselor said.â
âI rememberâsheâs âexternalizing her griefââand I still say itâs a crock. Give me a break, Natalie. So you got a divorceâso what? Lots of people do. It happens to kids all the time.â
âShe was young,â Natalie said, âand it wasnât pretty. There was a lot of anger, and yelling, andâother things. She saw things that a little girl should never have to see.â
Leah appeared from around the corner and stood in front of them. âWhat? I was playing.â
âSit down here, sweetheart,â Natalie said. âKemp wants to talk to you.â
Leah sat down on the sofa between them and looked at Kemp. âWhat?â
âYour mom says you saw something unusual the other dayâwhile the two of you were driving on the freeway.â
âSo?â
âWhat did you see?â
âAn angel. Can I go now?â
âWait a minute. Where did you see this angel?â
âOn the side of the road.â
âShe was just standing there?â
âHe.â
âOkay, he. What was he doing?â
âHe was standing beside a smashed-up car. There was a woman in the car, and she looked like this.â She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and let her mouth hang open a little. âThe angel was standing beside her, holding his hand like this.â Once again she demonstrated, extending her hand palm-down.
âHow do you know he was an angel?â
âI just know.â
âBut how?â
She frowned. âI just know.â
Natalie stroked her hair. âWeâre not doubting you, sweetheart; weâre just trying to understand. What did the angel look like? How was he dressed?â
She shrugged. âLike a man. Like anybody.â
âHe wasnât wearing a white robe? He didnât have wings or a halo, like the angels you see in picture books?â
She shook her head.
Kemp looked at her doubtfully. âThen what makes you think he was an angel?â
She looked down at her feet.
âGo ahead, honey,â Natalie said. âWeâll listen.â
âBut you wonât believe me.â
âTry me,â Kemp said.
She looked up at him. âWhen we drove by, he looked right at me and he went like this.â She put her index finger to her lips and went, Shhh .
There was a moment of silence before Kemp said, âYou
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