Page 94 of Quietly Falling
“But you’re right here,” I say, shaking my head as something sad passes over her face.
“I’ll always be with you, silly.” She shrugs. “I just might be a butterfly.”
“You’re beautiful,”I whisper to the butterfly, the wings flapping once more. “Thank you.” The delicate creature takes off, fluttering around me before doing all the things she dreamed of.
Soaring.
Diving.
She’s free.
It’s a harsh reminder that she’d known the end was coming for her—that she’d known and she’d told me where to look for her.
Where to find her.
Standing on shaking legs, I dry my face with the bottom of my shirt, every part of me wrung out from being here, from making peace with the ugliest parts of my life so I can make space for the beautiful ones.
Turning, I can’t help the way my heart damn near stops in my chest at the sight.
How had I not heard them?
How had I not heardall of them?
Because itisall of them.
Mason and Lana who’d been with me in the courtroom, their kids, Jensen, Montana, Archer and their girls, the Thayers, and the brood of kids they loved fiercely.
Unconditionally.
“They came for you,” Ella says softly as her hand slips into mine, “for her. Because they love you. They’ll understand if you’re not ready to see them, if this is too much. They just wanted you to know they’re here.”
Here.
Because Ella and I had flown to New Hampshire to watch Daryl Jeffers accept the plea deal that will keep him in jail the rest of his miserable life. Lauren’s statement about what she had endured during her short time in that home had been his undoing. It had made all the difference, and in the end he hadn’t wanted a trial.
The prosecutor had called us with the good news, but I needed to be here, to see for myself that it’s over.
And I did. The flash of recognition in his beady gaze as he looked from me to Mason and back was a victory in and of itself, because he never broke us. And neither did his family, all of whom were absent from the court room.
We made it.
We won.
“It’s because of them, because ofyouthat I’m here—that I survived.”
I’d been so ready for the loneliness to take me, to be the shell of the person I could be— the one that I am today.
Gratitude.
“I love you,” she says, her other hand gripping my forearm, grounding me to this one singular moment, the one I decided to live.
To love.
And be happy.
Forever.
EPILOGUE
