“I want Grandma to have the big room upstairs,” she said.
From the kitchen, Evelyn pretended not to hear.
She wiped a tear from her eye.
And Marcus laughed—a genuine, easy laugh—for what felt like the first time in years.
That evening, they ate clam chowder on the porch.
Lily talked endlessly about her class.
Evelyn told an embarrassing story about Hannah as a teenager.
And Marcus felt a sense of peace returning to his life that he had once thought might be gone permanently.
Protecting his daughter, he now understood, did not mean spending the rest of their lives suspicious of everyone.
It meant creating a world safe enough that Lily could simply be a child again.
Before bed, Lily placed her little canvas backpack beside the bedroom door.
It was the same backpack she had clutched against her chest on the terrifying afternoon Marcus returned to Greenwich.
