Lila and Max

Comet

The following weeks were a blur of counseling sessions and whispered conversations. Richard was torn between guilt and fear, his eyes never quite meeting Marianne's. They both knew that Lila's attempt was a cry for help, a plea to understand the inexplicable. And so, they decided to be honest with her about Max. They told her that sometimes things happen, and we may never know the full story. But what they didn't tell her was the truth about the night he'd disappeared - the strange lights they'd seen in the sky, the whispers in the neighborhood of something otherworldly.

As they worked to rebuild their lives, the family grew closer. Comet, the new puppy, became a beacon of hope in their lives, a reminder that joy could still exist in the wake of pain. But the questions remained, lurking in the shadows of Lila's mind. She'd often sit at the kitchen table, her eyes distant, as Marianne tried to explain the complexities of life and loss.

One night, as they sat under the twinkling lights, Marianne finally broke down. "I don't know why he left, Lila," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "But I do know that we're here for you, and we'll always love you, no matter what."

Lila looked up at her mother, her eyes glistening. "I know," she said, her voice small. "But I just wish Max was here to see the stars with me."

Marianne took a deep breath, her heart swelling with love for her daughter. "You know, I've been thinking," she began. "Maybe the stars aren't just pretty lights. Maybe they're Max's way of saying goodbye, and that he's watching over us from somewhere far away."

Lila's face lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Really?" she whispered.

Marianne nodded, her own eyes filling with tears. "Yes, honey. And every time you look up at them, remember that he's up there, looking back down at you."

The tension in the room eased, and Marianne knew that the lie was a necessary one, a bridge over the chasm of doubt and pain that threatened to swallow them whole. Together, they gazed up at the night sky, searching for the answers that remained frustratingly out of reach, but finding comfort in the knowledge that they weren't alone in their quest for understanding.

Lila took her mother's hand and squeezed it tightly. "Thank you," she murmured. "For telling me about Max and the stars." Marianne nodded, her heart aching for the pain her daughter had endured. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.