He clings to me like he’s afraid I might disappear.
“You came,” he says into my shoulder.
“Of course I came,” I murmur.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes still red from crying. “I knew you would.”
I brush his hair back from his forehead.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I admit.
“They scared me too,” he says, voice small again.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
He frowns a little at that. “Why?”
“Because I should have protected you.”
He thinks about it with the serious concentration only kids have, then shakes his head.
“You did.”
The simplicity of the answer lands somewhere deep in my chest.
Izzy is watching us, one hand pressed to her mouth. When I look up, tears are running down her cheeks.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She nods, even as her voice trembles. “I thought I was going to lose him.”
“You didn’t.”
“And I thought I was going to lose you too.”
I step closer without thinking, still holding Noah. “You won’t,” I tell her quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She looks at me for a long moment, like she’s deciding whether she’s allowed to believe that. Then she steps forward and wraps her arms around both of us.
Noah squeezes my neck again. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
“You shot the bad guy.”
“I did.”
He nods solemnly. “Good.”
Despite everything, a breath of laughter almost escapes me. I press a kiss into the top of his head and pull Izzy closer with my free arm.
For the first time since this nightmare started, the tightness in my chest finally loosens.
I breathe.
23
IZZY
