Page 7

I held my hand out to the little girl, and she slipped hers into mine. Danika didn’t waver as we examined each play station. I had a kitchen with pots, pans, and food. A nursery with dolls and furniture. As well as strollers and clothes to change the dolls. There was a climbing structure for small children like Danika on the other side of the room, but we avoided that for now. There was a bookshelf filled with colorful children’s picture books and reading books. There were shelves with puzzles, building blocks, crazy beads. I had created a sand table as well as a water table for sensory play. It could be overwhelming for some children, and they needed guidance to choose.

Danika had been coming in every day for the last week, and Danny and Dante would spend the hour playing with her in a different area, letting her experience everything she hadn’t had a chance to do until now. I watched and observed her reactions and how they both interacted with her.

After walking Danika around each area, letting her get familiar with each station to remember how she had played before, I waited to see which one she would gravitate toward.

When she looked back at Danny, I nodded at him.

“Go ahead, Dani, choose something to do,” he instructed her firmly, but with a smile. I had explained that because of her neglect and lack of structure, she had never had anyone tell her to do anything or give her permission to do anything. She needed to learn boundaries, which included setting some of her own.

Danika hesitated for another moment, and when Dante stood, I shook my head. Danny reached out and pulled him back to the couch. I could see the anxiety straining his body, and I felt for him. This was difficult for Dante. Knowing she had been essentially on her own, aside from her basic needs, it would be hard for him to allow her more independence.

Danika moved to the water table, and I smiled. I had hoped that was what she would pick. It was a shallow table only three inches deep, and while children should always be monitored around any type of water, I wanted her to feel secure in her choice.

“Great choice, Dani. Let’s put this over your clothes.”

I helped her put the waterproof smock over her clothes and stood next to her for a few moments while she tentatively touched the water. Dante and Danny had told me when they first brought her home, she was terrified of water. Danny held her in the shower while they washed her up each night. I was optimistic that by letting her play with the water table, they would be able to transition her to baths.

Dani splashed at the table, and when the water went over the side, she looked up at me. Giving her a huge smile, I offered her praise. “Great job, Dani.”

She smiled back, and I knew at that moment, this little girl would overcome the trauma of the first two years of her life.

I walked over to where Danny and Dante sat watching their daughter play. Sitting in a chair opposite them, we all watched her for a few moments, and I saw the tears they both shed. This was an emotional breakthrough, and I was pleased that neither felt it necessary to hide their own emotional response.

“How are you both feeling right now?”

“Overwhelmed,” Danny said.

“Overjoyed,” Dante added.

“Both expected emotions for what you have experienced since you brought Dani home. I would like to talk to you both about Dani’s first two years. The circumstances of her birth and her abduction. What can you tell me about Dani’s mother?”

Danny stiffened, and Dante closed his eyes.

I knew this might be a tough subject.

“Dani’s mother passed away shortly after her birth.” Danny reached over, taking Dante’s hand in his. I knew there was more to the story, but Danny didn’t want Dante to share it. It was something that would have to be dealt with if Dante was ever going to have a healthy relationship with his daughter.

“I am sorry to hear that. Were you together long?”

“It was only one time,” Danny answered.

“Danny, I understand you want to protect Dante. But I need to hear the answers from him. It is important for your relationship with Dani, as well as your relationship with each other, that any trauma experienced not only by Dani, but by the two of you be worked through.”

Dante watched his daughter. He didn’t speak up. He let Danny take the lead in every session. My concern was that while the two men did not exhibit the customary role of a consensual dominant and submissive relationship, that maybe the balance between them also contributed to the trauma they needed to work through.

I hadn’t asked about meeting with them separately but would need to consider that for the future.

“Dante, could you tell me about Dani’s mother?”

With a heavy sigh, he relented, “Danny’s right. It was only one time. We didn’t know each other. We never saw each other again after that. That’s why I never knew about Danika.”

“Did you know her name?”

Dante shook his head. The shame he felt over having sex with Dani’s mom was evident in the way he watched her. His eyes were glassy, and he clung to Danny’s hand.

“Was she the first woman you had been with?”

“Yes,” he rasped, the emotion thick in his voice. My heart broke for Dante. I suspected there was more to the story and it wouldn’t be good.