"You already are," Jenna says. "You're keeping us smiling."
Emma beams, mouth smeared with sugar. "That's my job."
We all laugh, and for a few minutes, the weight in the room lifts.
By noon, the boxes are mostly empty. The cabin looks lived in—curtains half hung, books stacked by the wall, Emma's toys scattered across the floor. It's not perfect, but it's ours.
When Josh and Jenna gather their things, I walk them to the porch. The sunlight filters through the trees, catching in Jenna's hair. She hands me the last of the cinnamon rolls wrapped in foil.
"For breakfast tomorrow," she says. "And for days when you forget to eat."
I swallow past the lump in my throat. "You didn't have to do all this."
She smiles. "We wanted to. Everyone needs people who show up."
Josh nods. "You call if you need anything. Even if it's just company."
"Thank you," I whisper.
The silence that follows feels softer this time.
Emma runs out to the porch, holding her stuffed horse under one arm. "Can we go see the library?" she asks. "Candy said she'd show me how to use the big computer."
I smile. "Tomorrow, baby. We'll go after breakfast."
She nods, satisfied, and spins in a slow circle, her arms outstretched. "I love it here," she says. "It feels like we're in a storybook."
Her joy is contagious. I laugh despite myself. "Yeah. It does."
When she runs back inside, I stay on the porch, leaning against the post.
It's been three days since I left him standing in that kitchen. I haven't heard from him and I haven't tried to call. Every time I think about it, I remember the look on his brothers' faces—the hurt, the betrayal, the fear that I'd been the wrong kind of secret all along.
He deserves time to fix things. To find his way back to them.
But part of me aches to think maybe he won't find his way back to me.
I press my palms against the porch rail, grounding myself in the feel of the rough wood.
This cabin, this job, this quiet—it's a new start. I tell myself that over and over until it almost sounds true. I'll give Emma the life she deserves. I'll keep building something steady, even if my heart still feels like it's been left out in the rain.
The door creaks open behind me. Emma peeks out, her curls glowing in the last of the light. "Mom? You okay?"
I turn and smile at her. "Yeah, baby. Just thinking."
"About Asher?"
Her small voice catches me off guard. "Why do you ask?"
She shrugs. "You get quiet when you miss people. You used to do it about Grandma, too."
I swallow hard. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?"
She grins. "That's what you always say."
I kneel, pulling her close, and breathe in the familiar smell of shampoo and crayons and safety. "Yeah," I whisper. "I miss him."
"Will we see him again?" she asks.