Silence settles back into the workshop, and this time, it’s warmer and fuller.
I press a kiss to Freya’s temple and let myself stay there, grounded in her.
My life has been a long act of offering—strength where it was needed, loyalty where it mattered, and sometimes, where it didn’t. I spent parts of myself so others could stand, survive, and keep going.
I never counted the cost. But I knew something was missing.
Standing here with her…it finally makes sense.
Most people don’t notice the pieces they’ve lost until someone shows up holding them.
And in that moment…you know you’re whole again.
EPILOGUE
Seven Months Later
Afternoon light spillsthrough the front windows, and dust motes drift lazily in the air. Anton is stretched out on the other end of the couch, a book secured in one hand, his other hanging over the side of Gabrielle’s bassinet.
Our baby sleeps peacefully. One fist is tucked up under her chin. The other is wrapped—barely—around Anton’s finger, her favorite security item.
He can’t help himself.
Despite all the articles we’ve read about slowly replacing human contact with blankies or pacifiers—lest we doom ourselves to never sleeping again—I still happily offer her the boob, and Daddy? That pointer finger.
She sleeps in the room with us at night. More often than not, I wake to see his hand resting inside the sidecar crib, her fingers curled around his warmth, Anton passed out cold beside her. Truly asleep. Not listening for threats. Not braced for the next sound.
I never thought a man’s sleep could bring me so much peace, but seeing Anton like that—relaxed, unguarded, with our baby right there—fills me with a contentment I didn’t know I was missing.
He clumsily turns the page of his very serious book on joint making, and that quiet smile that ignites my whole chest settles in again.
This. Is. It.
Anton and Riri are everything I never knew I wanted. Everything I didn’t know I needed. Funny how life surprises you.
When we brought Riri home, Anton asked if I wanted to stop working for a while.
I took the next week to think about my life as a police officer. Echo Valley is a safe place, and I doubt we’ll see a case like Zoe’s—or an officer like Ingram—anytime soon, so I feel settled with the idea of going back to work and seeing how it feels.
Knowing we have savings and room to breathe gives me a freedom I’ve never had before—the freedom not to rush my decisions.
I don’t reject the possibility of staying home either. Motherhood is a constant shift of emotions, priorities, and worry. Maybe when I go back, I won’t be able to stand the mom guilt everyone talks about.
Or maybe, like my mom, I will.
And because of Faith Johnson, I know Gabrielle can thrive in either of those situations.
I’m grateful I don’t need to predict the future to keep our family afloat. So many women out there do.
Anton shifts beside me, the couch dipping slightly under his weight as he puts his book down. How he remembers what page he’s on when sleep deprivation still has me putting my clothes on inside out some days is beyond me.
Then again, he was a Navy SEAL at one point.
Anton glances toward the bassinet where Riri sleeps, then back at me.
“We could try now,” he says quietly.
I know what he means without him saying it. The crib.
