Grace looked at Richard, her eyes conveying a blend of understanding and patience. The silence in the room was thick as Oliver seemed to weigh his options, glancing from his father’s concerned face to Grace’s reassuring presence.
Finally, Oliver took a deep breath, his voice tremulous but determined. “Dad, it was during recess. I was playing on the slide, and… and I fell. It was my fault. I was trying to go down backwards.”
Richard’s heart ached, caught between relief that it was nothing more sinister and a pang of guilt for not being there. He knelt beside his son, his hands gently resting on Oliver’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Oliver. Accidents happen. But why didn’t you or Grace call me?”
