The investigation progressed faster than I expected, and once self-defense was proven, both Amos and I were cleared of any charges.
I thought I would be shaken after taking someone’s life and spent days analyzing the situation from every angle, but then, remembering the things that woman said—and later, after talking to the social worker and learning more about what Bruno had been through—I knew I’d do it all over again.
I’ve come to understand that anyone is capable of killing if what’s at stake is their family.
Those monsters stole part of my Amos’s childhood and almost made him incapable of love. He’s never talked about the beatings Maria mentioned, and I’ll never push him to. Whatever happened, I know he was forced into it.
In many ways, I probably know Amos better than he knows himself.
Despite the way he sees himself, I know the generous, good man I love. He’s not perfect, and to some, what he does may seem wrong. Not to me.
I no longer live in a bubble. I’ve thrown myself into the world of human trafficking, and the more I learn, the more rage I feel toward the scum who destroy lives—for profit or for their own perversions.
The foundation we created to help the children is giving them a chance to start over.
Amos still has moments of deep introspection, and I know that part of him will never change—his childhood shaped too much of who he is. But I try to fill those moments with joy whenever I can, replacing the bad memories with good ones.
That’s not hard to do with Bruno in our lives. That boy is a ray of light. Every time I see him smile, I promise myself I’ll work as hard as it takes to erase—if not erase, at least ease—the pain he’s already been through. I hope that since he’s still so young, he’ll be able to overcome most of the trauma. But the psychologists won’t promise anything. Only time will tell.
Thinking about it brings tears to my eyes, but I can’t afford to break down today. I need to show the judge that we’ll do whatever it takes to make our boy happy.
About four months ago, after dinner one night, while I was in the kitchen getting dessert, my love proposed to me.
When I came back, the tub of ice cream fell to the floor—because there was my Amos, down on one knee, holding a little jewelry box.
I broke every protocol. I didn’t even let him ask. I jumped into his arms, screaming “yes” a thousand times.
The memory makes me smile—and reminds me of the conversation we had that night.
As thrilled as I was about the proposal, once the initial excitement passed, I knew we needed to talk about adopting Bruno. If we were getting married, this couldn’t be my project alone anymore. It had to be ours.
I saw the doubt in his eyes, and for a moment, I was afraid he’d try to talk me out of it. But after hours of conversation, working through every adjustment we’d need to make, he said he was ready for the whole package.
We changed our status from engaged to married just a month later, in a simple courthouse ceremony. Amos wanted me to have the wedding of my dreams, and of course I would have loved to design my own dress, but the lawyer advised us that our chances of adopting Bruno would be much better if we were married rather than just engaged. So that was that.
“That’s better,” he says now, seeing me smile, pulling me in to kiss the top of my head.
“I’m sorry. I’m terrified that something will go wrong.”
“It won’t. Anyone who spends five minutes with you two knows he’s already your son.”
“A son and a husband in record time. I have my own family now. Not bad for a former loner,” I tease.
“You do. And they’re mine too,” he says. “You always have been, from the very beginning. I just had a hard time believing I deserved two angels in my life. I love you, Lilly. I’m more than ready for our future.”
Chapter 70
A Year Later
Bruno is picking up his bike for the fourth time.
I watch him closely but only offer help when he asks, which isn’t easy, given my tendency to control everything.
Over the past year, I’ve learned that my son is a brave and independent little boy.
I’m not sure how much of the nightmare he endured will shape his personality, but he rarely lets himself fully relax. When faced with anything outside his routine, his instinct is always to stay on the sidelines, acting indifferent, but I’ve been watching him for months and I know when he’s dying to do something but won’t let himself try. It’s as if he’s afraid of being disappointed. He doesn’t take risks the way a child his age normally would—he plays it safe.
I hope that one day my boy will feel strong enough to go after what he wants, but I know he needs to do that in his own time.
