My husband whispered something in his ear to our seven-year-old daughter every night, but when he took her to the bathroom and locked the door, I could no longer remain silent

from the first word.

Six months earlier, Lily had suffered a panic attack during a school performance. Since then, he refused to sing or even recite a short poem in front of other people. The simple idea of someone watching her made her hands tremble.

But now my daughter was singing.

At first, his voice was weak, but he gradually became stronger and more secure. Daniel shut the tap. I had been using the sound of the water to hide Lily’s voice and prevent me from discovering her surprise.

When Lily finished, I fell to my knees and hugged her tightly.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Daniel pointed to the calendar hanging from the wall.

My birthday was marked with a red circle.

“I wanted to sing you the song you sang to her when I was little,” Daniel explained. But I was afraid of not