PART 6
Chapter 6
Eight months later.
The judge's gavel came down with a sharp, echoing crack that reverberated off the mahogany walls of the federal courthouse.
"For the charges of conspiracy to commit wire fraud, forgery of federal documents, and felony child endangerment, I sentence you, Sarah Miller, to fifteen years in a federal penitentiary, without the possibility of early parole," the judge announced, his voice devoid of any sympathy.
Sarah didn't look at me as the bailiff clicked the handcuffs around her wrists. She looked hollowed out, her hair lifeless, staring blankly at the floor as she was led away. Brad had taken a plea deal early on to testify against her, begging for mercy, but the judge still handed him ten hard years. The notary was currently serving five.
I walked out of the courthouse, pushing through the heavy glass doors, and took a deep, lung-filling breath of crisp spring air. The suffocating weight that had been sitting on my chest since that freezing, rainy night finally dissolved into the wind.
I climbed into my truck and drove away from the city, heading toward the suburbs. I drove back to our new house—a sprawling, single-story ranch at the end of a quiet, tree-lined cul-de-sac. It had a massive, fenced-in backyard, surrounded by oak trees.
The moment I unlocked the front door, I was nearly tackled by eighty pounds of joyous, golden fur. Buster barked, spinning in circles, his tail thumping against the drywall like a drum. I knelt and scratched him vigorously behind the ears before walking down the hall.
Lily was sitting at the kitchen island, a ray of warm afternoon sunlight illuminating her face as she drew with a box of fresh crayons. She had grown at least two inches. Her cheeks were full and rosy again, and the haunted, fearful shadows that used to hide behind her eyes were completely gone.
She looked up, her face breaking into a massive, missing-tooth smile. She dropped her crayon.
"Daddy!"
She scrambled off the stool and sprinted into my arms. I picked her up, spinning her around once before holding her tight against my chest.
"Hey, sweetie," I murmured, burying my face in her hair, smelling strawberries and sunshine. "What are you drawing today?"
"A picture of us," she said proudly, squirming down to grab the paper.
She handed it to me. It was a crude, beautiful drawing of a stick-figure man in green, a little girl in a pink dress, and a very large, disproportionate brown dog. They were standing on bright green grass, under a massive, radiant yellow sun that took up half the page.
No rain. No cold. No locked doors.
May you like
Just us.
"It's perfect, Lily," I told her, pinning it to the fridge. And as I looked at her, laughing as Buster tried to lick her face, I finally knew with absolute certainty that everything was going to be exactly that.
