Page 110 of The Fall
She beams.
At bedtime, Lily drags me to her bedroom. She insists she has to show me something important.
Her bedroom is a museum of her little life. It’s soft and lit with twinkling strands of lights, awash in princess aesthetic meets dinosaur wonderland. Stuffed animals line the bed like a sentry of plush. Sports trophies are everywhere. The pink teddy bear I gave her after she got her cast sits front and center.
She’s proud of it all. She walks me around her bedroom, pointing out her triumphs: soccer goals, swimming ribbons, a basketball trophy. A tiny gymnastics figurine with its arms raised mid-cartwheel.
“Wanna see my stuffed animals?” she asks, tugging me toward her bed.
After I’ve been introduced to an army of plush—bears, giraffes, unicorns, monkeys—the animals go, one by one, into the closet. All but the pink bear stays, and she tucks that one under her arm as she climbs into bed. I step back, giving space for Erin to tuck her in.
Lily’s eyes track me as I move toward the door, her small hand clutching the pink bear tighter. The fairy lights cast soft shadows across her face, making her look even smaller in the big bed.
“Wait,” she says, and I stop. Her voice is quiet, sleepy already. “You didn’t see my best trophy.”
Erin smooths the blanket over Lily’s legs. “Sweetheart, Torey needs to?—”
“It’s okay,” I say, coming back to the bedside. “Where is it?”
Lily points to her nightstand, where a paper plate is pinned to the wall above a nightlight shaped like a T-rex. The handwriting on it reads “Best Helper” in Hayes’s lettering.
“Daddy gave it to me,” she whispers.
My chest goes tight. This kid. This whole family.
“Torey?” Her small fingertip traces the one-eyed monkey sticker on my cast. “Will you come back and play with me?”
I wish, God, I wish I could bottle this moment and live within it. “Of course I will.”
“It’s time for you to sleep, Lily-bean,” Erin says. Hayes is at the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the frame.
I ruffle Lily’s hair, then the top of the pink bear’s head, too. “Night, warrior.”
A smile spreads across her face. “I told you I could beat you.”
“You did.” We bump casts one more time.
Her eyes are already drooping, lids fluttering as she fights to keep them open. The pink bear shifts under her arm, and she burrows deeper into her pillow. I tuck her blanket higher.She’s already drifting, her breathing evening out, that little-kid surrender to sleep taking over.
Erin’s hand rests on Lily’s forehead, brushing back wisps of hair that have escaped her ponytail.
I back away slow, careful not to disturb the spell. Erin closes the door behind us with the faintest click, and that’s the night. The three of us stand in the hallway, suspended in the quiet that follows tucking a child into bed.
“She’ll be out like a light,” Hayes whispers, his voice barely disturbing the air between us. “Once she crashes, she’s down for the count.”
Erin nods. “Especially after today.” She glances at me. “You are so good with her, Torey.”
I lift a shoulder, suddenly self-conscious. “She’s a great kid.”
We drift toward the stairs, our footsteps hushed against the carpet. I trail behind them. Hayes’s hand settles on the small of Erin’s back, guiding her. He gives Erin a kiss at the bottom of the stairs and tells her to get some rest, and Erin heads to their bedroom.
Then, only the two of us are left, and he drags me into a back-breaking bear hug. “You are Lily’s new best friend, man.” He says it like a badge of honor. “And you’re stuck with us forever.”
Twenty-Six
Pink.
It’s the first thing that draws every eye when I walk in.
