We eat lunch outside. Sandwiches, fruit, chips straight from the bag. Silas tries to convince Sadie that chips count as vegetables because “they’re made from potatoes and potatoes are plants.”
“That’s not how nutrition works,” Caleb says.
Silas squints. “That sounds fake.”
Sadie laughs so hard she nearly drops her juice.
She laughs more today.
Really laughs.
The kind that comes from the belly, unguarded and loud. The kind that doesn’t keep checking over its shoulder.
She talks about school without hesitation now. About Micah. About a project she’s excited to work on. About how she wants to wear her favorite hoodie because it makes her feel brave.
“I think school will be good again,” she announces, mouth full of apple slices.
Boone stills.
“Yeah?”
She nods, confident. “Yeah. I’m not worried anymore.”
Boone visibly loosens.
Later, Sadie climbs into my lap without asking, curls against me like it’s instinct. This is where she belongs. Her head fits under my chin perfectly, warm and trusting.
“I like it when you’re here,” she says. “You’re going to stay forever.”
Not a question.
“Yes,” I reply without hesitation. “I am.”
Marcus is gone.
The fear has loosened its grip.
And this place, this house, these people who argue about chips and hug without warning and show up without needing to be asked… it isn’t somewhere I’m hiding.
It’s somewhere I’m choosing.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Boone
I don’t do surprises.
Surprises are for people who have spare time and a nervous system that isn’t wired to plan three steps ahead in case the first two go to hell.
I prefer schedules. Fences you can see. Problems you can fix with your hands.
A grand gesture is… fluff.
And yet…
This is Delaney, and she deserves the world.
So the idea takes hold on a Saturday morning while I’m staring at a stack of feed invoices and Delaney is humming under her breath at the stove, hair pinned up, apron tied around her waist, making our kitchen a whole lot brighter.
