"I'm off them," she whispered. "I stopped weeks ago. They make everything flat. And I can't… I can't stand the quiet."
Fern nodded. "I understand. But if Jacob ever knows you hurt another child, he will never forgive you. Do you think he would want you to see you again? And you love him too much to let that happen."
Matilda's breath trembled as her shoulders sagged. "I just want Jacob back. Darren has him, and he is never going to give him back. Never going to forgive me."
The knife in her hand clattered to the floor as her knees buckled and she covered her wet face with her hands. "I'm done." She slid down against the wall, hands limp at her sides.
It was in that position that Connor found her seconds later, barrelling up the stairs and planting himself in front of Fern and Coral like a shield.
Matilda didn't even flinch as her eyes focussed on a point on the far wall. She didn't seem aware of them.
The fight was gone.
"I'm done," she repeated, voice empty.
Later, there were flashing lights and an ambulance outside. She let the police lead her down the stairs without any resistance.
She didn't fight or look back. She simply... folded in on herself.
Fern held onto Coral like she couldn’t let her out of her sight.
And a shaking Connor held them both.
***
That night, there was no way Coral was sleeping on her own.
Coral lay between them, warm and small and safe, her fingers curled into both their shirts. Connor wrapped his arm over Fern and Coral at once, as if merging them to him. It was as if he was afraid that if he loosened his grip even slightly, they would slip away. He had given Fern a confused version of how Sawyer had called to let them know that Matilda had a temporary release as she had been doingvery well and had shown good progress. She had been home for two weeks but had been missing from home for two days.
"You don't know what was going through my head when I turned my car and drove home," he whispered.
Fern tucked her face into his shoulder. His breath surged in and out, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We're okay," she whispered.
His arms tightened.
"We're together," she said. "We are safe. It is over now."
When sleep finally took them, it was like finding a haven after a long, twisting, brutal journey.
Epilogue
The house was finally settling down. The years had turned it from a house into a home. Coral was eight, sprawled on the living room rug with pencils and a half-finished picture of a horse. She hummed while she coloured, her tongue poking out in concentration—her focus so absolute that not even Connor coming down the stairs could break it. Her brother, Soren, sat next to her, trying to stuff a balled-up sheet of paper into his mouth.
Connor held a thin, faded envelope in his hand. The handwriting had stopped him cold the moment he'd opened the old storage box he had stuffed in the attic when they first moved in.
Fern looked up from the sofa. "What have you got there?"
He lowered himself beside her, still staring at the envelope. "It's... from him," Connor said. "My dad."
Fern straightened slowly. "The letter he wrote to you," she said carefully.
"I thought there was just this one," Connor replied. "Turns out, Mum hid the rest. She sent a box of them in the mail today. I think she hopes I will change my mind about going no-contact with her. This... "—he pointed to the box on the side table—"makes me hate her more. I never knew he wrote to me. I have hated him for so long."
Fern touched his arm. "Do you want to read it together?"
He nodded.
Connor unfolded the paper. It was yellowed, edges soft with time. His father's handwriting filled the page, not revealing that he had started and stopped too many times.
