Chapter 7 - THE FIRST NIGHT
Eighteen months after the attack, Lena received one supervised overnight through an approved family transition program.
Noah was five.
He packed three stuffed animals.
A flashlight.
His favorite blue blanket.
Then stood at my door.
“You picking me up tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Ten.”
“Exactly?”
“As close as humanly possible.”
He thought.
“Can Uncle Derek come?”
I smiled.
“If you want.”
“Okay.”
Then he hugged me.
Hard.
That night, I barely slept.
At 9:42 the next morning, Derek’s truck pulled into my driveway.
“You’re early.”
“So are you.”
“Shut up.”
We arrived at 9:53.
Noah came running out.
Happy.
Not terrified.
Lena stood behind him.
She did not ask whether this meant everything was fixed.
Thank God.
She simply said:
“He did great.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
Then Noah shouted:
“Mom made pancakes shaped like dinosaurs!”
Derek whispered:
“Court-approved pancakes.”
I elbowed him.
Noah laughed.
May you like
That sound mattered more than anything.
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