Noah turned and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I bent over him.
Lily came too, though slowly, like she was trying not to need comfort. I pulled her close with one arm.
“We’re going to be okay,” I whispered into their hair.
Lily’s voice was muffled against my shoulder. “Promise?”
I closed my eyes.
I had made too many promises based on hope alone.
So I gave her a better one.
“I promise I will not stop fighting for us.”
She held me tighter.
That was the emotional truth of the day—not that money had saved us, or lawyers had arrived, or Daniel had been forced out.
It was that my children had watched me stand up.
And maybe, somehow, that would help them stand too.
Later, after Mr. Meyers arranged for temporary security and made several urgent phone calls from the office, the children and I sat on the living room floor with pizza we barely ate.
