She was holding a phone in front of her.
“See? It is fake. You can stop being scared.”
A frightening video was playing. My daughter had pressed herself against the headboard, unable to look away.
I reached for her hand.
“Turn it off.”
Her cousin did.
In the car, my daughter told me about the late-night videos and the messages afterward: more clips, warnings not to be a baby, jokes about whether she could sleep.
“I wanted her to think I was grown-up.”
“You dont have to watch something frightening to deserve someones company.”
The sleepovers stopped. Together, we changed her message settings. I stayed close at bedtime and sought help when her sleep difficulties continued.
Her cousins apology was specific. No just kidding. No request that my daughter forgive her immediately.
Weeks later, my daughter suggested an afternoon visit at our house.
She chose baking.
When her cousin arrived, she left her phone in her bag and asked, “What are we making?”
My daughter handed her a spoon.
Later, I heard them laughing over crooked cookies.
That night, my daughter asked me to leave the hall light on.
I did, without making a fuss.