At the red light, he rested his fingers on the steering wheel and said the sentence to himself again. Does everything have to revolve around you? It was one of those adult arrows you throw to impose order and in reality you drive it straight into the softest place. Because he knew Emma. He knew that underneath all the sarcasm, the frayed nerves, the permanent resistance, there was still a child trying to understand how to exist inside her body, her school, her friendships, her home. A child who wanted space and at the same time wanted to know that if she fell apart, someone would still be there.