George was trying to console his daughter. He didn't feel like he was doing a very good job. Not that he ever felt like he was doing a "good job" in any of these situations. Lana was 10 years old, and while she wasn't as sulky as she used to be, she still had a tendency to just sit there while he prattled on. Usually he ended up rambling and desperate by the end of these scenes. Today he was really trying not to, but it was a serious struggle.

If only she knew what I knew, he thought. If only I could tell her. But I can't. It would be so cruel. I can't do that to her. I couldn't do that to anyone. But how can I get her to calm down? It's probably pointless anyway. But I have to try. I'm a bad parent if I don't try. And she has no idea what's going on anyway. She expects me to comfort her right now, like a good parent should. Like any parent should.

Should I give up and tell her I'll buy her a present? Should I get the biscuits from the cupboard and cajole her into taking one? Should I put my arm around her? Just tell her I love her? We've been stuck here for months now. She thinks things will get better any day now. She thinks we're around the corner from going back to normal. She has no idea what's coming. Maybe it's my duty to make sure she never finds out.