I laughed when I spotted my ex-wife walking alone down a deserted road outside Franklin

Megan stood beside the sign with Lily on her hip. Noah toddled unsteadily toward Rowan, who caught him before he could sit in a puddle. Ellis clapped at the rescue as if it had been planned entertainment.

The ribbon-cutting drew no television cameras. Megan had insisted on that.

Just families. Volunteers. Lawyers offering free consultations. Nurses. Social workers. Abigail teaching children a song beneath a tent. Jonathan helping assemble donated cribs. Priya pretending not to cry behind sunglasses.

Rowan’s company funded the project, but Megan ran it.

That had been her condition.

“No Bellamy branding,” she had said.

“Agreed.”

“No speeches about redemption.”

“Agreed.”

“No portraits of your ancestors.”

“Strongly agreed.”

Now, as families moved through the pantry, Megan handed Lily to Abigail and stepped beside Rowan.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“At the sign.”

“You hate the font?”

“I fear it.”

She laughed softly.

The sound still felt like sunlight.