My body recognized her voice before my mind did, my muscles relaxing automatically at the sound. I turned toward the kitchen archway and there she stood, her expression a mixture of concern and affection.
“Are you okay?” She took a half step toward me.
I smiled without effort. Palmer was glowing—there was no other word for it. Her long, golden hair had been braided into an intricate crown around her head, dotted with small flowers that Hailey had insisted on adding from the birthday bouquet I always got her. Her flowing ankle-length skirt swayed with her movement, and the soft pink of her shirt brought out the natural flush in her cheeks.
The spot where Anderson’s blade had marked her was almost healed now, and the faint bruises were easily covered by some makeup. He hadn’t severely injured her, thankfully, but he’d nicked her before he died. I only saw it because I knew exactly where to look, had traced my fingers over it countless times in the dark as if I could erase it with enough gentle attention.
“I’m fine,” I said, and it was the truth. “I just needed a minute. My ears were starting to ring.” I nodded toward the packed kitchen, where the volume was reaching levels to rival a siren.
Palmer tilted her head, studying me with those perceptive eyes that always saw more than they should. A small smile tugged at her lips as she held out her hand toward me. I took it without hesitation, her fingers delicate but strong as they wrapped around mine.
“Come.” She turned. “Hailey’s about to blow out her candles.”
I let her lead me back toward the noise. I squeezed her hand gently.
The kitchen was packed wall to wall with people I loved.
My brothers stood together with their partners. Everyone was smiling and laughing, especially baby Thea Grace, who babbled happily in her highchair.
“All right!” My mother called for everyone’s attention as she cradled the cake she and Palmer had been laboring over for three days straight. “It’s time for dessert!”
It was three tiers and heart-shaped, covered in a hot-pink frosting. Purple and teal ruffles with frilly designs were piped onto the top and sides, and my mother carried it over to the table as carefully as she would a bomb.
Hailey sat at the head of the table, a paper crown perched on her dark curls, surrounded by a cluster of friends from school. They were the same little girls who had been running between the stage and balloon arch all afternoon, their energy seemingly inexhaustible. Now they were momentarily subdued by the prospect of cake, staring at the sugary masterpiece with awe.
Palmer and I stepped deeper into the kitchen, catching Hailey’s attention somehow from the cake coming her way. Her entire face lit up. Her smile—so much like her mother’s, it sometimes stole my breath—spread wide across her face. Eight years old today. Sometimes it seemed impossible that so much time had passed, that the tiny baby I’d once held in terrified hands was now this vibrant, chatty person with opinions on everything and anything.
“Happy Birthday, Hailey girl!” Mom announced, setting down the cake and lighting the eight candles perched on top.
The room erupted into varying pitches of “Happy Birthday”—the little girls practically screaming the lyrics, my brothers joining in with exaggerated deep voices that made Hailey giggle, and even baby Thea added her nonsensical babble to the chorus. As I sang along, I slid my arm around Palmer’s waist and drew her tight against my side.
We hadn’t spent a night apart since Anderson burned, and I had no intention of changing that arrangement.
As we sang, I watched Palmer’s face. The genuine joy there as she looked at my daughter made my chest tighten with anemotion I couldn’t fully name. She still cared for Hailey when needed, but recently she’d been exploring other possibilities too. She’d submitted an application for a position as a preschool teacher. I’d watched her agonize over the resume, rewriting it six times before she was satisfied.
She would be an amazing teacher. Any school would be lucky to have her.
My family was lucky to have her.
As the song reached its end, I tried to imprint this moment in my memory.
We were rebuilding, all of us. My brothers had set up a temporary office downtown while finalizing plans to reconstruct Hearthstone Security with local contractors. I’d returned to the firehouse, though the nightmares about flames sometimes made the job harder than before. Palmer was creating her own path forward, something that was truly hers rather than fitting herself into the spaces others needed filled.
Ember Hollow itself was healing too. When Anderson’s body, or what remained of it, had been positively identified, it was as if the entire town had collectively exhaled. People walked the streets without constantly looking over their shoulders. The media circus had finally packed up and left. Slowly, carefully, life was resuming its normal rhythm.
Everything was beginning to heal. It wasn’t the same as before—the scars would always be there—but we were stronger because of it.
As Hailey prepared to make her wish, I leaned down until my mouth was next to Palmer’s ear. The words had been building in me for weeks, growing more insistent each day, and suddenly I couldn’t hold them back any longer.
“I love you,” I whispered.
She stiffened, her small gasp lost in the noise of the party. I hadn’t planned to say it here, now, surrounded by everyone, butsomehow it felt right—declaring it in this moment of joy and family and new beginnings.
Hailey glanced at us again, her smile bright before she took a deep breath and blew out all eight candles in one determined gust.
The room erupted in applause, and something I hadn’t experienced in years settled over me: peace. Not just the absence of danger, but a true contentment. The kind that sinks into your bones and makes you believe that good things might actually last.
After all the grief and fear and uncertainty, I couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store. The world no longer was full of shadows and dark days…it was golden.
