Laura whispered, “We loved you.”
Rebecca answered her from somewhere behind Aaron and me. “That makes it worse.”
“Grandma worked herself to the bone all these years to look after us,” Mia said. “You can’t truly expect us to believe you spent a decade trying to find a way to come for us? Not after we’ve seen what real love looks like.”
Silence sat between us, heavy and complete.
“That makes it worse.”
I thought I would feel triumph or anger when they finally answered for what they’d done, but instead, I just felt hollowed out by their confession.
I looked at the son I had raised and the woman he had chosen and tried to find something left to save.
I could not.
Because standing there in that doorway, with all seven of my grandchildren behind me and my son on the porch like a stranger asking to be let in, the truth was plain.
I just felt hollowed out by their confession.
Maybe they had genuinely planned to return for the kids once, but that had stopped being part of their plans a long time ago.
“You should leave,” Aaron said.
Daniel took one last look at me, then he turned away. Laura lingered a moment longer, tears in her eyes, but then she followed Daniel.
There was nothing in that house for them anymore except the damage they had done, and all seven of those children had finally learned how to look it in the face.
I shut the door, and when I turned around, all seven of them moved in for a group hug.
