Shane's face crumpled. April knew what this meant to him—receiving the love of a good father figure for the first time in his life. Being calledsonby a man like Sonny Taylor.
Miriam was beside April then, wrapping her in soft arms and the scent of vanilla. "Oh, baby girl. You're safe now. You're safe."
Hannah was crying—happy tears streaming down her face as she joined the hug.
Sonny pulled away from Shane, turned to April. His hand came up to cover his heart, a hummingbird fluttering, the sign language they'd created together when she was little.I love you. I'm so glad you're home.
April's vision blurred. Sonny opened his arms and she went to him, burying her face in his shoulder like she was six years old again.
“Papa.”
"My brave girl," he whispered. "My brave, brave girl."
They stood like that—family, whole and safe—while the rain finally stopped outside and the world slowly righted itself.
Two days later,April woke in Shane's arms.
They were at her house—finally safe to return. The bed was familiar, the room hers, but everything felt different. Better. Like coming home after a long journey.
Shane's chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, steady and warm. She felt his hand stroke her hair.
"How'd you sleep?" His voice was rough with morning.
"Good, actually." April tilted her head to look at him. "I keep waiting for the nightmares, but they don't come."
"That’s good."
"I'm not sad about Vince." The words came out small. "Does that make me a bad person?"
Shane's hand cupped her face. "No, sweetness."
"He died reaching for money. After everything—that's how he chose to end." April closed her eyes. "I feel sorry for him. But I’m not sad over him."
"You don't have to be."
They lay there in the quiet, listening to sounds from the kitchen. Cabinets opening. The clink of dishes.
Shane smiled. "Think we should check on him?"
"Probably." April grinned. "He's been okay though, right? Talking to Aunt Arden every day?"
"Every day. She's good with him." Shane kissed her forehead. "You planning to talk to her too?"
"Yeah. Soon." April sat up, stretched. "But first—coffee. And whatever disaster Kevin's creating out there."
They dressed quickly, then padded down the hallway in bare feet.
The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and sugar. Kevin stood at the counter, a plate of cinnamon toast in front of him, rainbow sprinkles scattered across the surface like confetti.
"Morning!" Kevin beamed. "I made you breakfast!"
April's heart swelled. "So I see."
Benny sat at Kevin's feet, a suspicious sprinkle clinging to the corner of his mouth. Pete had the brains to look guilty as he licked his chops.
"Did the dogs help?" Shane asked, fighting a smile.
"Maybe a little," Kevin admitted.
