As November approaches, I can't help but think about Thanksgiving and seeing Lily again. She’s a pretty little girl, in more ways than one, but it genuinely bothers me how quiet and reserved she is unless she is with Harper or me. I shouldn’t have to say it, but normal 6-year-olds don’t act that way. Say what you will, but there's something off about her family and the way they treat her. We talk, but she’ll never talk about her life at home, and for some reason, all of these things together make me very uneasy. I'm not quite sure why, but my gut tells me something isn't right.

Lily greets our grandparents and then immediately looks around for Harper and me. We find a quiet corner in the den and spend the day playing and talking until dinner is served. I hated to see the tears in her eyes when Mom told us it was time to leave.

This Christmas we continue our semi-tradition of celebrating quietly at home. As always, we are showered with gifts: clothing, shoes, jewelry, and credits deposited into our accounts for us to spend as we please. After unwrapping all the presents, we spend the day leisurely watching movies, playing games, and indulging in the assortment of holiday treats laid out for everyone to snack on.

We treasure this time together while ignoring the imminent return to our daily lives. Despite the day, I can't shake off the feeling that something is wrong with Lily, even though she puts on a happy facade. What's worse, I don't know how to address it. She refuses to talk about it, which only adds to my unease about bringing it up.