A knock came a few hours later and jolted Layla from sleep. The light was off; darkness filled the room. Somehow Layla's irritation had diminished enough for rest to enter and drag her away. At that hour, it had to be her father at the door.

"Come in."

Robert opened the door and flipped on the light. "Your mother says we need to talk."

Layla pulled herself up and leaned back against her headboard, using her pillows to cushion the hardness of the wood. "She's being unreasonable. She won't even give him a chance."

Robert sat by Layla's feet, eyes thin slits, lips curled. He sometimes took Jill's side; Layla hoped this wasn't one of those times. Robert often tried to present a unified front with Jill, but unlike Jill, he attempted to understand Layla's point and make Layla see the reasons behind his declarations instead of laying them down like law. Robert's face looked pained; he searched for the words to explain his position to Layla. Layla braced herself.

"Boys will come and go, sweetie. You can't allow a boy you may forget in two years to come between you and your mother."

"She won't even give him a chance, dad."

"She has her reasons."

"What reasons? She doesn't even know him." Layla slid closer to her father. This wouldn't be a time when she accepted his--Jill's logic. Layla had to convince him to see things her way. "He's perfect, dad."

Robert chuckled. "I'm sure he's not perfect."

Lyla's cheeks warmed. She lowered her eyes and watched her index finger while she traced the blue flower outline on her white sheet. "He's good to me. He's had a rough life, but he's good to everybody."

Robert's face grew somber. He closed his eyes and let the silence sit between them. When he spoke again, he said, "It must be hard for him without his parents."

Layla saw an opening. Her father had enough compassion to see Evan's humanity, to recognize Evan's loss.

"He has his uncle," Layla said, "but I guess it's not the same. I know he goes through so much, but he still considers me enough to try to make me feel special."

"You deserve to feel special. You are special." Robert smiled, pulled Layla in, and kissed her on the forehead.

Layla relaxed against her father. She'd won him over. She appreciated that she could at least be transparent with one parent, so she told Robert the rest. All that she had withheld from Jill, she told him.

Layla told Robert about one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for her. She detailed the trip to the middle of nowhere Oakton, told him all about the garden: how it looked, smelt, and felt. She even told him something she hadn't told Evan or Sarah because she hadn't entirely processed it herself: every flower in the garden tugged at her. She had always been drawn to plants, always known what they needed to thrive. In the wood, all of that had heightened somehow. The plants called to her. She knew how deep their roots went and had felt the water climbing up their stems. The rays of sun that settled on their leaves and petals made her skin tingle and buzz.

Robert grew stiff next to her; he wasn't happy for her. Layla clenched her teeth, held her breath, and waited for a response. None came. She knew the part about feeling the flowers may have been too much for her father, but she needed to share it with someone. Robert's eyes widened with...? Fear? Worry? He stared at the wall.

"You need to stop seeing that boy."

Layla's heart broke. "But...what? Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Is it because he brought me into the woods? We weren't alone. Sarah, Jenn, and Aaron were there. Nothing happened. I promise."

"How did he know about that place, Layla?"

"I...He said it belongs to the lab. Your lab. He. He volunteers there sometimes."

"Why did he bring you there?"

"He saw my garden. He thought I'd like it. I did. It's the best --"

Robert sprung to his feet. "You'll stop seeing that boy, Layla. Or I'll lock you in this house." Robert spoke slowly. He sounded sober though his eyes shone with a wild glaze.