“Daddy!” Sophie’s voice was a mixture of relief and joy, tears welling up anew, but this time, they were tears of happiness. She dropped the brush and rushed towards her father, wrapping her small arms around him tightly.

“Sweetheart, what’s happened to your hands?” David asked, concern lacing his voice. He could see the rawness, the tiny cuts, and the exhaustion etched across his daughter’s face. Sophie hesitated, glancing nervously at Janet, who stood silently by, her smile faltering.