“My love...” I began to speak, wondering if we were doing the right thing.
But Anna interrupted me, “Again! Play it again, Evy! Maybe this time she’ll say something different! Maybe she’ll say she’s coming home soon!”
I broke completely, rendered speechless by her raw, hopeful grief.
But Logan took a deep breath and went to them. He knelt, placing a hand on each of their backs. He waited until Aurora looked at him.
“We’re going to be okay,” he whispered. “You are going to be okay.”
Anna shook her head violently. “I don’twantto be okay! I want my mommy! I want hernow!”
She tried to push him away, but he was steady, and she finally collapsed into his arms.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured again, holding Anna tightly with one arm and reaching out to cup Aurora’s tear-streaked face with his other hand. “You’ll take care of each other… and I will take care of you.”
I went to them, kneeling beside Logan and facing Aurora.
“Wewill take care of you,” I said.
Rory threw herself into my arms, and I held her as if my love could form a shield against her pain. Logan pulled me close with his free arm, and I saw that, even as they cried, Anna and Aurora never let go of each other’s hands.
And we stayed like that, the four of us, for a long, long time.
Surrounded by sorrow, but held together by love.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
LOGAN
One month later...
Things haven’t been easy since then.
The girls were deeply shaken, and it took time for their smiles to return with the same spontaneous joy. We always reminded them their mother wanted them to be happy, and that became their strongest motivation to heal.
Now they were doing well, but Evelyn and I faced a new parenting milestone: leaving them with a babysitter for the first time.
The New York Center Hospital held its annual spring gala to mark the new fiscal year and recent hires. As the new director, my attendance was mandatory.
And of course, the invitation included my partner.
We hired a reputable agency, trusting they would send a qualified professional.
“What if you tell them I have a stomach bug?” Evy suggested.
We were both dressed and ready—me in a tuxedo, her in a stunning golden gown—lingering in the hallway, staring at the girls sleeping peacefully in their beds.
“No one would blame you for staying home if I was supposedly sprinting to the bathroom every five minutes,” she pressed.
“They’ll be fine, Evy,” I repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.
“You could just go alone…” she tried again. “Then we wouldn’t need a sitter at all.”
“And leave a catch like me alone at a party?” I teased.
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Are we back to the arrogant phase, Dr. Turner?”
“I’m appealing to your jealous side.”
