"But," breathing out on a sigh, Finn looked away before back into his daughter's face, conceding the point, "Probably." The way it was, however, there were a good many reasons he worried too much, and it was unlikely that was ever going to change, never to speak of any time in the near future. It was doubtful he'd stop worrying even when she was old and gray. When he looked over the room again, slow and inspecting, part of a now familiar, not game, but practice of sorts, of him giving color or description to the things he could see but she could not. "Do you remember when I took you to the Blue Mountains, to see the waterfalls, and there were all those lush trees framing the water streaming off the cliff?"
It was a miracle that he wasn't truly neurotic, or more prone to panicking, really. Since Ellie's death seventeen years before, Helena was his last connection to her, as well as a girl he'd done his best to protect and help grow. Since Helena's accident, he'd just had more and more things to worry about when it came toe keeping her safe and happy.
He didn't even want to think of her growing up and moving away.