But it didn't bother me any further. Perhaps my words that day had gotten through to him a bit.
A few months passed like this. One day, I was returning home from work.
A girl was crouched by my door, curled up with her back against the wall and her face buried between her knees.
Thinking she might be a neighbor's child who had gotten in trouble, I tentatively asked her, "Hey kiddo, did you make your parents angry?"
She buried her face deeper into her body, her muffled voice replied, "Yeah, I made Mom mad."
I tried to comfort her, "It's okay. Go apologize to your mom. She'll forgive you."
The girl lifted her face, tears in her eyes.
I froze on the spot, forgetting to breathe for a moment.
It was Melody. She had grown taller, almost a young lady now.
But her face was no longer as round as when I left. She had lost a lot of weight.
After a long pause, I finally managed to ask, "How did you get here? Are you alone?"
"Yeah. I missed you, Mom," she said.