Chapter 8 - Lila Had Seen What Mateo Missed
Lila saw Camille cry almost every afternoon.
She never told Mateo because Camille always wiped her face before coming downstairs.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mateo asked.
Lila shrugged.
“She said moms cry sometimes.”
Camille looked embarrassed.
Mateo did not ask her in front of the child.
Later, after Lila was downstairs eating with Rosa, he did.
“How long?”
Camille stared at the floor.
“Since before Noah was born.”
Not constant.
Not dramatic.
Moments.
Overwhelm.
Fear.
Feeling detached from everything around her.
Then shame for feeling detached.
She loved Noah.
That was never in question.
But love did not magically make new motherhood simple.
Mateo listened.
He had spent months assuming Camille’s competence meant she was fine.
She organized the nursery.
Remembered appointments.
Managed feeding supplies.
Smiled for family photographs.
He never realized how much effort the appearance of calm required.
Still:
“You framed my daughter.”
Camille nodded.
No excuse.
“I know.”
“Being overwhelmed doesn’t make that okay.”
“I know.”
“You made her question her own memory.”
Camille started crying.
“I know.”
That mattered.
She was not asking emotional pain to function as absolution.
Mateo did not need to diagnose her.
That was for professionals.
What he did recognize was the family’s failure to speak honestly long before the pink notebook appeared.
He had protected Lila by pretending nothing changed.
He had “supported” Camille by telling her she was doing great every time she tried to say she wasn’t.
Both responses sounded positive.
Both shut down harder conversations.
Camille’s choices remained hers.
But Mateo’s certainty about his own goodness softened.
Then he remembered something.
Three nights earlier, Camille told him:
“I think Lila is starting to hate me.”
Mateo laughed.
“Lila loves everybody.”
Camille tried again.
“She watches me like she’s scared.”
He said:
“She’s four.”
Then went back to answering email.
Lila had not been afraid because Camille was simply “the new mother.”
She was afraid because she had seen her moving objects.
Threatening secrets.
Crying alone.
Children notice contradictions even when they cannot name them.
The notebook was Lila’s attempt to build coherence.
May you like
Mateo finally understood that.
And he realized there might be pages he had not read yet.
