She considered this, her face cycling through about seventeen emotions in three seconds. Then she smiled, bright and relieved. "Okay. Can you pass the syrup, please?"
I laughed, with an almost trembling voice. Cole's hand found mine under the table and squeezed.
Later, when Sarah was occupied with cartoons, he pulled me onto the back porch.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"I'm great." I wiped my eyes. "I'm just... I'm really great."
"You're crying."
"Happy tears. They're different."
"Are they?"
"Completely different chemical composition. It's science."
He smiled and pulled me close. I pressed my face into his flannel, breathing in sawdust and pine and something that was just him.
"She loves you," he murmured into my hair.
"I love her too." The words came easily, naturally. "Both of you."
His arms tightened. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good." I felt him smile against my temple. "Because I'm in love with you, Emma Reed. Completely. Inconveniently. Probably since that craft disaster."
"Inconveniently?"
"You've significantly complicated my hermit lifestyle."
"How tragic for you."
"Devastating." He pulled back to look at me. "Worth it, though."
I kissed him because words felt inadequate. Because for the first time in over a year, the future didn't look like a minefield. It looked like Saturday mornings, burnt bacon, and a little girl who just called me Mommy.
That was the fairytale. That was the dream I let myself believe in.
And then Tuesday happened.
I was grading spelling tests at my kitchen table, a mug of tea cooling beside me. Tommy had spelled "beautiful" as"bootiful," which honestly seemed reasonable. Outside, the wind had picked up, rattling the windowpanes in their frames.
The knock at the door broke the monotonous peace.
I opened it to find a park ranger, his uniform crisp, his expression carefully neutral.
"Evening, ma'am. Sorry to disturb you."
"Can I help you?"
"We're notifying residents near the forest perimeter." He shifted his weight, a small movement that made my stomach clench. "We have a missing couple. Didn't return from their hike this afternoon."
Missing. Hike. Didn't return.
"What happened?" My voice sounded strange. Distant.
