It did not make Claire my little girl again or give Hannah back the months I stole from her.
But it offered me one impossible thing.
A beginning.
Claire stopped beside Hannah. For a moment, all four of us stood in the courthouse hallway, connected by blood, broken promises, and a baby whose name held more mercy than I deserved.
I looked at Claire.
“I got your message,” I said.
She knew which one.
The call after her mother died.
The one I never returned.
Her face tightened.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was a coward.”
Claire stared at me for a long time.
Then she said, “Yes. You were.”
I nodded.
She glanced down at Grace, then back at me.
“Don’t be one with her.”
