“Cinnamon rolls?” I ask.
“Obviously.”
Behind her, Graham leans against the doorframe with Fenna in his arms. He looks tired—maybe because he hasn’t stopped hovering since I got home—but his smile is real. “She’s been up since five. I didn’t want you to wake.”
I smile. “I wouldn’t have minded. You know I can’t get enough of her. Or any of you.”
He comes closer, hands her over. Fenna squirms and giggles, obviously in a playful mood. I still can’t get over how much she grew in such a short period.
“You sure you’re up for visitors later? The reporters are already camped outside again.”
“I’m not talking to them. Not yet.”
He nods, the relief in his eyes unmistakable. “You don’t have to explain anything to anyone.”
Ember leans against my arm. “Is it weird? Being famous now?”
I chuckle. “If it means never seeing the inside of a hospital again, I’ll take weird.”
She studies me with that sharp, too-knowing gaze of hers. “They said on the news that you were brave. That you stopped everything.”
“I didn’t do it alone.” I nudge her. “A lot of people helped.”
She gives me a pointed, knowing look. We kept Graham from finding out that she was involved.
“I couldn’t have done it without Billa or Sophia,” I blurt.
“Still,” she says, looping her hand through mine, “you came home. You’re here. We all missed you so much.”
Something in my chest tightens. “I’m pretty sure I missed you more. Aside from Dr. Hanson, I was basically alone.”
Graham frowns. “We should have visited more. I’m so sorry.”
I squeeze his hand. “Don’t be. You did what you thought was best, and given I believed I was in the middle of a play, I might not have noticed your presence for a while.”
Graham clears his throat. “Billa texted. She’s heading over. Said she has something for you.”
I blink. “For me?”
He nods. “Didn’t say what. Just that it’s important.”
Before I can answer, Fenna tilts her head and pulls on my hair.
We all laugh.
Ember slides off the bed. “I’ll make more cinnamon rolls.”
Graham gives her a sideways glance. “There’s already enough for an army.”
“You can never have too many.”
When she’s gone, the room feels quieter again. Even Fenna is busy with a toy she found between the pillows.
Graham lingers by the door, studying me. “You’re really okay?”
I meet his eyes. “I am. Not that I expect a full recovery in a week, but I really do feel like all of the Radley stuff is officially behind me. It can’t haunt me anymore.”
He nods slowly. “That’s good enough, I suppose.”