"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry she said those things in front of the kids. I'm sorry I brought this drama into your lives."
"No." Silas sits beside her, pulling her hands away from her face. "You didn't bring anything. Raven is bitter because we wouldn't give her what she wanted, and she's taking it out on you. None of this is your fault."
"She's wrong," Wyatt adds, his voice firm. "About everything. You're not temporary. You're not a placeholder. And we're not too broken to love you. I’m pretty sure we’re already kind of falling."
The confession hangs in the air, too big and too important for a playground conversation while the kids are in earshot. But it's out there now. Wyatt loves her. And based on the expressions on Silas' face, on my own face, we all do.
We're falling for this woman who walked into our broken home and started putting us back together. And whatever Raven says, whatever doubts Amelia has, we're going to prove that this is real.
Amelia
I need to check on the kids first. Before I can think about anything else, before I can process what just happened with Raven, I need to make sure Riley and Isaac are okay.
The house is quiet when we get back, but it's not the peaceful kind of quiet. It's the heavy, waiting silence that settles after something difficult has happened. I take the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding, and find them in Riley's room, huddled together on her bed with Isaac's favorite truck clutched between them.
Riley looks up when I appear in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. Isaac is pressed against her side, his thumb in his mouth—a habit he'd broken months ago but apparently returns when he's stressed.
"Hey," I say softly, stepping into the room. "You guys okay?"
Riley nods, but her chin wobbles. "Is she going to come back? Raven?"
"No." I cross to the bed and sit on the edge, reaching out to smooth Riley's hair back from her face. "Your dads won't let her near you. I won't let her near you. She's gone."
"She said mean things about you," Isaac says around his thumb, his words muffled but clear enough. "I didn't like it."
"I know, sweetheart. But those things weren't true, okay? Sometimes people say mean things when they're unhappy, but that doesn't make them true."
"Dad said that too," Riley says quietly. She's studying my face like she's trying to figure out if I'm lying, if I'm about to disappear like everyone else eventually does. "You're not leaving, right? Because of what she said?"
The question hits me right in the chest, stealing my breath. These kids have lost so much already. Their mother, their stability, nanny after nanny who didn't actually care about them. And now they're terrified I'm going to be one more person who walks away.
"I'm not leaving," I promise, pulling them both into a hug. Riley comes willingly, her small body pressing against my side. Isaac crawls into my lap, his truck digging into my ribs but I don't care. "I'm staying right here with you guys. For as long as you'll have me."
"Forever?" Isaac asks hopefully.
My throat tightens with emotion I can barely contain. "I hope so, sweetheart. I really hope so."
We sit like that for several minutes, the three of us tangled together on Riley's bed, and gradually I feel them both relax. Isaac's thumb slips out of his mouth. Riley's breathing evens out. The fear that was radiating off them in waves starts to dissipate.
"Why don't you guys watch a movie downstairs?" I suggest. "Something fun. I think your dads put on that one about the talking dogs you like."
"Will you watch with us?" Isaac asks, looking up at me with those big hazel-green eyes.
"In a little bit. I need to talk to your dads about something first, but then I'll come watch, okay?"
Riley nods slowly, sliding off the bed and taking Isaac's hand. "Come on, Isaac. Let's go see what Dad picked."
I watch them head downstairs, hand in hand, and the sight makes my chest ache. They shouldn't have to be this resilient, shouldn't have to comfort each other through fear and loss. They should just get to be kids.
By the time I make it back downstairs, my whole body is trembling with leftover adrenaline and emotions I can't quite name. Raven's words keep echoing in my head, mixing with Vincent's voice until I can't tell which cruel assessment belongs to which person. Temporary. Placeholder. Not good enough. Too broken to be worth the effort.
I bypass the living room where the kids are settled on the couch and head straight for the guest room, which feels like the only safe place right now, the only space where I can fall apart without an audience. But I only make it halfway down the hallway before Silas appears, blocking my path.
"Amelia." His voice is gentle but firm. "Don't hide. Not from us."
"I need—" My voice cracks. "I just need a minute. Please."
"You can have a minute," he agrees. "But take it in the living room with us. Let us help."
