That abstract style—it was hard not to recognize.
Lillian nodded her little head, replying, “Uh-huh!”
The two clerks standing nearby chimed in at just the right moment. “Mr. Williams is quite fond of your daughter, ma’am. He was just showing her how to interact with ‘Lightning.’”
Camila Davis finally caught on: “Lightning” was the name of the little military dog beside them.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks.
This new info was almost too much to process all at once.
So the person Lillian met earlier—the one who delivered the painting—wasn’t some street artist after all. It was the mysterious psychologist she’d been so desperate to meet?
Camila’s jaw dropped as the truth dawned on her.
So her precious daughter had already met the elusive specialist—while she herself had been running around in circles, searching high and low!
For a second, Camila wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the irony of it all.
But another, even more important thought struck her.
From just a brief encounter with this man, Lillian had made a huge leap forward. After seeing his artwork, she’d become fascinated with painting, and even started showing a unique talent for it.
How amazing did this guy have to be, to pull that off?
More than anything, in just this short visit he’d managed to get Lillian playing around with the little military dog—giving commands, shaking hands, laughing like any other kid.
Watching her daughter now—bossing Lightning around, making him sit, lie down, and shake—Camila could hardly believe this was the same little girl who’d once been so withdrawn.
She was certain now: if Mr. Williams agreed to help, Lillian could get better. Completely better.
Determined, Camila turned to Mr. White, her voice earnest, “If Mr. Williams comes by again tomorrow, please, you have to introduce us! I’m begging you—I really want him to help my daughter.”
Mr. White nodded without hesitation. “Of course, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
That answer stunned Camila even more.
It was clear from her daughter’s tone that she trusted this man—maybe even depended on him in a way she never had with anyone else.
How did he do it? They’d only met twice, tops, and Lillian already thought the world of him.
Not even Jordan Smith—her own father—had ever earned that kind of praise.
A wave of complicated emotions washed over Camila.
As Lillian’s father, Jordan had never connected with her like this. That was more than just neglect—it was outright failure.
But honestly, Camila wasn’t expecting much from him anymore.
Right now, all her hope was on meeting Mr. Williams—the one person who might truly help Lillian.

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