I clear my throat. “Holly, go put your books in your room.”
“Wait!” Holly squeals. “I need to tell Teddy something first.”
I raise a brow. “It’s almost bedtime.”
“It’s important,” she argues.
Lucy hides a smile.
Holly runs down the hallway, whispering loudly to her stuffed bear as she goes. “Come on, Teddy, we gotta talk.”
I try not to laugh. Fail.
Lucy swallows a smile too. “She’s… adorable.”
“She’s exhausting,” I counter. “And yeah. Adorable.”
Even saying the word makes me feel something I don’t want to name.
Lucy shifts closer to the door like she’s preparing to leave. “I’ll let you two?—”
Then Holly’s door doesn’t close all the way. We hear it. Every word. Her tiny voice drifting down the hall:
“Okay, Teddy. You gotta listen. This is a wish, so you can’t tell anybody.”
Lucy freezes beside me. I go stone-still. Holly whispers fiercely, the way kids do when they think they’re being sneaky: “I want Miss Lucy to be my family.”
My stomach drops. Lucy sucks in a breath—sharp, silent, gut-level.
I feel everything inside me pull tight.Tootight.
Holly keeps going, whispering with heartbreaking honesty:
“I know she’s not my mommy. I know. But I want her to stay. She makes Uncle Ash smile the big smile he tries to hide. And she reads the best. And she smells nice.”
Lucy’s hand flies to her mouth. I can’t move. Holly’s voice softens even more:
“And when Mommy’s gone… I’m not scared when Miss Lucy is here. So I wish she could be ours.”
Jesus Christ. The words hit me dead center. Like a roof collapsing. Like a fire roaring too fast to outrun.
I hear Lucy sniff quietly.
Holly adds: “Please, Teddy. Don’t tell. It’s a secret wish.”
Silence swallows the cabin. Lucy stares at the floor like her heart just got punched out of her chest. Mine’s not doing much better.
She whispers, “Ash…”
“Don’t,” I say, voice low and rough.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend that didn’t hit you.”
She swallows hard. “I’m trying not to cry.”
“Don’t,” I repeat, softer. “I can’t take it if you do.”
