later, the front door closed behind him.
The house finally went quiet.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, I felt empty.
Caleb stood near the kitchen island.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at him.
“You moved my recovery room.”
“I know.”
“You helped them come.”
“I know.”
“You thought I’d be too tired to fight.”
His face crumpled.
“I know.”
Grace began crying.
I lifted the carrier.
Caleb stepped toward me.
“Let me take her.”
“No.”
He stopped.
I carried her upstairs slowly.
Every step hurt.
But not as badly as
