Chapter 14
The trial preparation took months.
During that time, our home became evidence.
We stayed with Ethan until a victims’ advocate helped us move into a rented house with big windows and no vents near the floor.
Claire chose it.
“I need to see the corners,” she said.
So we kept every room bright.
The children changed slowly.
Noah learned that food came every day.
Mia stopped hiding crackers under her pillow.
Lily stopped asking if she was bad for loving Caroline once.
That question hurt Claire most.
One night, Claire sat beside Lily on the bed.
“You are allowed to love people you miss,” Claire said softly. “Even if they hurt you.”
Lily cried.
“Does that make you sad?”
“Yes,” Claire admitted. “But I love you more than I am sad.”
I watched from the doorway, tears burning.
Claire was not stealing motherhood back.
She was building it carefully, one honest answer at a time.
My memories returned in pieces.
A song.
A blue dress.
Claire laughing with flour on her cheek.
Our wedding rings in a wooden bowl.
Sometimes the memories came so hard I had to sit down.
Sometimes they didn’t come at all.
Claire never pushed.
One evening, I found her looking at old photos Harris had released.
Our wedding.
Mia as a baby.
Claire pregnant with Lily.
“I remember this,” I said.
She looked up fast.
I touched the photo.
“You told me I was holding Mia wrong.”
Claire laughed through tears.
“You were.”
I smiled.
“I probably deserved it.”
Her hand found mine.
For the first time, it didn’t feel like reaching across ruins.
It felt like coming home carefully.
Then my lawyer called.
May you like
Peter had taken a deal.
And his testimony would name everyone.
