Chapter 17
When I became pregnant again, I panicked.
Not from regret.
From memory.
The test sat on the bathroom counter.
Two lines.
My hands shook.
Ethan found me sitting on the floor, staring at it like it might accuse me of something.
“Claire?”
I pointed.
He looked.
His face changed.
Joy arrived first.
Then he saw my face, and he knelt immediately.
“Tell me.”
“I’m scared.”
He nodded.
No hurt pride.
No forced celebration.
Just presence.
“Of Sarah?”
“Of everything. Falling. Threats. Courtrooms. Cameras. Being touched. Being watched.”
He sat beside me.
“Then we do this differently.”
“We already did everything carefully.”
“No,” he said. “Last time, survival was driving. This time, you drive.”
So I did.
I chose the doctor.
I chose who knew.
I chose when we announced.
I chose no baby shower.
I chose quiet.
The twins were too young to understand, but they knew something was coming.
Rose patted my stomach and said, “Baby moon?”
Noah shouted, “Mine!”
Ethan said, “We may need to workshop that.”
This pregnancy was easier on paper.
No public fall.
No trial.
No threats.
But trauma does not read calendars.
At twelve weeks, I fainted in the kitchen.
Ethan caught me before I hit the floor.
I woke on the sofa with Dr. Peterson checking my pulse.
The baby was fine.
I was fine.
But I cried for an hour because fine did not feel believable.
Dr. Peterson sat beside me.
“Claire, your body remembers danger. That does not mean danger is here.”
I hated how much I needed to hear that.
At twenty weeks, we learned it was a girl.
Ethan cried again.
He always did now.
Noah demanded we name her Truck.
Rose suggested Sparkle.
Ava suggested anything except Truck.
We named her Lily.
Not after anyone.
Just because it sounded like a fresh start.
Sarah heard through public filings after Lily’s birth.
She sent one message through her attorney.
Congratulations. I hope they are well.
No request.
No pressure.
No poison.
I read it twice.
Then asked Michael to file it away.
Ethan asked, “Do you want to respond?”
“No.”
And that was peace too.
Not every message needs an answer.
Lily was born on a clear morning.
No storm.
No chaos.
No police.
Just light through hospital curtains and Ethan holding my hand.
When she cried, I laughed.
When they placed her on my chest, Noah and Rose met her through the glass with Ava holding both their hands.
“My baby moon,” Rose whispered.
Noah pressed his face to the window.
“Truck?”
Ava sighed.
“We failed him.”
I laughed so hard Dr. Peterson told me to breathe.
That night, with Lily sleeping beside me, Ethan kissed my forehead.
“No fear?” he asked softly.
I thought about it.
Fear was still there.
A small shadow in a far corner.
But it no longer owned the room.
“Some,” I said.
May you like
Then I touched Lily’s tiny hand.
“But not enough to steal this.”
