But the truth turned out to be much more painful.
I knelt in front of Emily and hugged her tightly. Then I looked at my father.
—There will be no more secrets. Especially not secrets that a little girl is expected to keep.
My father nodded.
—You're right. I gave her a responsibility that should never have fallen on a child.
The following week I accompanied my father to the doctor. We arranged his treatment and explained to Emily that caring for adults was not her responsibility.
We also made sure she understood that she could always tell me any secret or comment that made her feel uncomfortable.
Three months later, the finished sculpture was placed in front of the library entrance.
It depicted a girl holding an open book.
On opening day, my father stood by Emily as she proudly held his hand.
At the base of the statue there was only one phrase:
"For children who teach us that the truth should never remain a secret."
