Chapter 10
The day our daughter was born was the happiest day of my life.
She was small.
Seven pounds, two ounces.
With a full head of dark hair and Ethan’s big brown eyes.
We named her Eleanor.
Ellie for short.
After my mom.
Harold cried when he held her for the first time.
Said she was the best thing that had ever happened to the Hale family.
Said he’d spend the rest of his life making sure she never had to know the kind of pain his choices had caused.
Marge brought her a blanket she’d knitted herself.
Pink, with tiny roses stitched into the edges.
Said my mom would have loved it.
We moved into a small house on Maple Street a month later.
One of the ones Ethan and Harold had built.
Yellow, with a white picket fence and a big backyard.
Perfect.
Ellie’s first birthday was a huge party at the community center.
All the families from the project came.
The kids ran around, eating cake and chasing each other.
Harold was in charge of the grill, wearing a “World’s Best Grandpa” apron Ellie had helped him make at daycare.
Marge was face-painting all the kids, turning them into butterflies and tigers and superheroes.
Ethan was chasing Ellie around the yard, her giggles echoing off the walls.
I stood by the picnic table, watching them.
A glass of lemonade in my hand.
The ring on my finger glinting in the sun.
A woman walked up to me.
Older.
Gray hair, kind eyes.
I recognized her.
Mrs. Lopez.
One of the first families to move back into the project after it was rebuilt.
She’d lost her husband a few years before.
Had been raising her three grandkids alone when Victoria evicted her.
“Hi, Lila,” she said, smiling.
“Hi, Mrs. Lopez,” I said. “Are you having fun?”
She nodded.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said. “For what you did. For all of us. If it hadn’t been for you… I don’t know where we’d be. You gave us our home back. You gave us hope.”
She reached out, squeezed my hand.
“Your mom would be so proud of you.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“Thank you,” I said.
She smiled, and walked off to join her grandkids.
Ethan walked up to me then, Ellie on his hip, both of them covered in cake.
“Who was that?” he said, wiping a smudge of frosting off Ellie’s nose.
“Mrs. Lopez,” I said. “She was just saying thank you.”
Ethan smiled.
“You deserve it,” he said. “You did all this. You fought for all of us.”
I shook my head.
“We did it,” I said. “Together.”
Ellie reached for me, her tiny hands grabbing at my shirt.
I took her from Ethan.
Held her close.
She smelled like baby powder and vanilla cake.
She twisted her little fingers around the ring on my finger.
Just like I used to do with my mom.
I looked out over the yard.
At the kids laughing.
At Harold flipping burgers, surrounded by a group of little boys begging for hot dogs.
At Marge, covered in face paint, dancing with a group of little girls.
At Ethan, standing next to me, his arm around my waist, his head resting on my shoulder.
I thought about the wedding.
About the torn dress.
About the ring falling into the pool.
About the fear.
The anger.
The pain.
And I thought about now.
About the house.
The baby.
The family we’d built.
Not the family we’d been born into.
But the family we’d chosen.
Full of love.
Forgiveness.
Second chances.
Justice had been served.
Victoria was in prison, where she belonged.
The families she’d hurt were whole again.
My mom’s name was cleared.
Her legacy lived on.
In the houses.
In the scholarships.
In every kid who got to go to college because of her.
In Ellie.
I kissed the top of Ellie’s head.
Whispered into her soft hair.
“We’re safe now, baby,” I said. “We’re all safe.”
Ethan squeezed my waist.
Kissed my cheek.
“Forever,” he said.
I looked up at the sky.
The sun was setting, painting the clouds pink and gold.
And for a second.
Just a second.
I swore I felt my mom’s hand on my shoulder.
Heard her voice, soft and warm, in my ear.
I’m so proud of you, baby.
Live.
Be happy.
I smiled.
Tears running down my face.
Happy tears.
“I am, Mom,” I whispered. “I really, really am.”
And as Ellie laughed, and Ethan held me, and the sun set over the houses we’d built together.
I knew.
May you like
Everything was going to be okay.
Forever.
