“We didn’t know,” she whispered.
“I believe you,” Megan said.
Everyone looked at her.
Megan’s eyes stayed on Lily. “I have spent a year imagining the people who had her. Some nights I hated them because it was easier than being afraid. But I can see this house.” Her voice broke. “I can see her in it.”
Abigail held Lily closer, crying silently.
Rowan watched Megan then and understood something that humbled him completely. Her strength was not in surviving cruelty. It was in refusing to become cruel in return.
Lily fussed suddenly, reaching toward the small piano in the corner.
“She likes keys,” Jonathan said automatically. Then he stopped, as if ashamed to know that before her birth parents did.
Megan shook her head. “Tell me.”
Jonathan swallowed. “She likes music. Especially low notes. And pears. She hates carrots. She sleeps better if the lamp is on. She says ‘ba’ when she sees birds.”
