—Andrew.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the steering wheel, eyes burning. For the first time in a long while, I let myself breathe.
One week later, the brakes on the van were fixed. Grace had new bedding — soft and clean, the kind her pediatrician said would help with her eczema. The fridge was full, enough to quiet the background worry I’d lived with for years.
That Friday night, I ordered pizza. Lily bit into her slice and gasped like she’d never tasted melted cheese before.
“This is the fanciest night of my life,” she declared.
“We’ll have more nights like these, baby,” I laughed, kissing her head. “I promise.”
Later, we made a vacation jar from an old mason jar and construction paper. Noah drew a roller coaster. Lily sketched a lake. Max drew a rocket ship. Grace? Just a swirl of purple.
But I think she meant joy.
“Are we rich now?” Max asked.
