"Promise."
She nods, solemn and serious. Then she reaches up and touches my face, her small fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
"You look tired," she says. "Did you have nightmares?"
"No." I take her hand, squeeze it gently. "For the first time in a long time, I didn't have any nightmares at all."
"That's good." She pulls her hand back, wraps her arms around herself. "I still have them. Every night. The doctors say they'll stop eventually, but I don't believe them."
"They will." I stand, rest my hand on her shoulder. "It takes time. But they get quieter. And one day, you'll wake up and realize you can't remember the last time you had one."
"Is that what happened to you?"
"I'm still working on it. But I'm getting there." I glance at Asher, then back at Lily. "I had help. Someone who didn't give up on me even when I gave them every reason to."
Lily's gaze moves to Asher, assessing. "Is he your person?"
"Yeah." I reach back, find Asher's hand without looking. "He's my person."
"Good." She nods, satisfied. "Everyone should have a person. The doctors say that's important for healing."
"The doctors are right."
Elliot touches Lily's shoulder, guides her gently back toward her room. "Come on. Let's get you some lunch while Jinx takes care of business. He'll come say goodbye before he leaves."
Lily goes, but she looks back twice before the yellow door closes behind her. Each time, I raise my hand in a small wave. Each time, she waves back.
When the door clicks shut, my shoulders drop. The tension I've been carrying since Singapore bleeds out in one long exhale.
"You okay?" Asher asks.
"No." I turn to face him. "I told a traumatized child that I'd take care of her. I don't know how to take care of anyone. I barely know how to take care of myself."
"You'll learn."
"What if I don't? What if I fail her?"
"Then you'll try again." He takes my face in his hands, forces me to look at him. "That's what being a parent means. Fucking up and trying again. Making mistakes and learning from them. Nobody gets it right the first time."
"You seem very calm about the fact that we're apparently adopting a kid."
"I've had a few hours to process." He grins, and it's the cocky, infuriating grin that made me want to punch him the first time we met. "Besides, you already love her. I can see it. Fighting that would be like fighting gravity."
"I don't love her. I barely know her."
"Bullshit. You looked at her and saw yourself. That's love, Jinx. The complicated, messy, crazy kind. The kind that doesn't give you a choice."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"Three days," I say. "We finish this in three days, and then we figure out how to be parents."
"Sounds like a plan."
"It sounds like insanity."
"Same thing, with us."
I kiss him, hard and fast, because I don't have the words for what I'm feeling. The fear and the hope and the desperate, aching need to believe that I can be something other than what they made me.
