The flood of emotions that rushes into me when I meet my father’s gaze makes me burst into tears on the porch—near-violent, shoulder-wracking sobs that probably startle everyone with their abrupt appearance. Then, I feel warm arms around me, smell a comforting, sharp cologne, and I’m being guided back into Hazel’s house and onto her couch. I don’t know how long I sob against my father’s chest. I come back to the room slowly, to his arms rocking me, the sound of his low hum against my ear, and little rhythmic squeezes of my shoulder that remind me that I am loved.
