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I pull into the school parking lot early, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. The playground's still full of kids, and I spot Lila immediately, her competitive streak on full display as she races a boy to the slide. "Mom!" She bounces into the backseat minutes later, her eyes sparkling. "I won at kickball today! Three times!" "That's amazing, baby." I adjust the rearview mirror, catching her victory dance. "And then at recess, Tommy said girls can't throw far, so I showed him how wrong he was." She demonstrates her throwing motion, and my breath catches. It's exactly like Carson's warm-up routine. At home, Lila sprints through the living room, football tucked under her arm. "Watch this spiral, Mom!" The ball flies perfectly straight, just like her father's passes used to. Suddenly, it's like all I see in her is her father. I watch Lila retrieve her ball, her face glowing with pride at her throw, and my heart aches. No. I can't go there. Can't let myself imagine Carson teaching her proper throwing technique, or them practicing together in the backyard. Because the moment he gets cleared to play, he'll be gone. Just like my father was. And Lila deserves better than that, than the abandonment she will feel when he chooses the game over her. AMZN: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F2TPWR5B