Chapter 13
Margaret died three months later.
We got a one-sentence email from the prison.
Margaret Carter passed away peacefully in her sleep on April 17.
No funeral arrangements have been made.
No next of kin have come forward.
James deleted the email without a word.
We didn’t tell the girls.
There was no need.
She was nothing to them.
Less than nothing.
A bad dream they’d already forgotten.
We didn’t go to the funeral.
There was no funeral.
No one claimed her body.
She was cremated and buried in an unmarked grave in the potter’s field.
Alone.
Just like she’d lived.
Just like she deserved.
The day we got the email, we had a celebration.
Not because she was dead.
But because she was finally, truly gone.
Because she could never hurt us again.
Not even in death.
We made the girls’ favorite dinner.
Spaghetti and meatballs.
We had ice cream for dessert.
We watched their favorite movie.
And after the girls were asleep, James and I sat on the porch swing.
Holding hands.
Watching the stars.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
He was quiet for a long time.
“She was my mother,” he said finally. “I loved her once. When I was a little boy, I thought she was perfect. I thought she hung the moon. It’s hard to completely let go of that. Even after everything she did.”
He paused, swallowing hard.
“But I’m not sad she’s dead. I’m relieved. Relieved that she can’t ever come back. Relieved that the girls never have to see her again. Relieved that we can finally close that chapter of our lives forever.”
He turned to me, his eyes glistening in the starlight.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to stand up to her. I’m sorry I let her hurt you. Hurt the girls. Hurt Daniel. If I’d been stronger—”
I put my finger on his lips.
“Don’t. You stood up when it mattered. You fought for us. You protected us. You’re the best husband. The best father. The best man I know. I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.”
He kissed me.
Soft and slow.
Full of love.
Full of promise.
“I love you, Emily Carter.”
“I love you too, James Carter. More than anything.”
We sat there for a long time.
Watching the stars.
Listening to the crickets.
Feeling the warm spring air on our faces.
Our life wasn’t perfect.
We still had bad days.
Grace still had nightmares.
Lily still got angry sometimes, talking about what Margaret had done.
James still had moments of guilt over his mother.
I still cried sometimes, thinking about Daniel.
But those days were getting fewer and farther between.
The good days far outnumbered the bad.
We had love.
We had family.
We had friends.
We had a home.
We had hope.
And that was enough.
More than enough.
The next morning, I woke up early.
I made pancakes.
The smell woke the girls up.
They came running into the kitchen, still in their pajamas, Sunshine right behind them.
“Pancakes!” Lily yelled.
“With chocolate chips?” Grace asked, her eyes wide.
“Of course with chocolate chips,” I said, smiling.
James came in, rubbing his eyes.
He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and kissed my neck.
“Best smell in the world,” he said.
“Pancakes?”
“No. You. Us. This.”
I leaned back against him.
Watching our girls laugh and fight over the syrup.
Watching Sunshine beg for scraps under the table.
Feeling James’ heart beat against my back.
I thought about where we’d been.
The gala.
The DNA test.
The trial.
The fear.
The pain.
The loss.
And I thought about where we were now.
This kitchen.
This family.
This love.
We’d been to hell and back.
But we’d made it.
Together.
And as Lily poured too much syrup on her pancakes and Grace giggled and James kissed my cheek again, I knew.
This was our happy ending.
The one we’d fought so hard for.
May you like
The one we deserved.
And it was perfect.
