Megan laughed through tears. “Her brothers hate carrots too.”
Abigail looked at her. “Brothers?”
“Twins,” Rowan said softly. “Noah and Ellis.”
Lily slapped one hand against Abigail’s shoulder and babbled, as if contributing her opinion.
The sound undid them all.
There was no simple ending that day. No dramatic handoff. No instant repair.
Instead, there were hours of conversations, calls, emergency filings, and careful agreements made around Lily’s nap schedule. Judge Reed issued temporary orders preserving Lily’s safety and preventing Hawthorne or Evelyn from interfering. Priya arranged for a child welfare specialist to guide the transition.
And Megan, who had dreamed for a year of running with her daughter in her arms, chose not to frighten the child she had finally found.
“I want to hold her,” she admitted, standing in the Mercers’ living room as evening settled outside. “But I want her to feel safe more.”
