Within a week, we moved into Everett’s house.
He kept every promise.
Brielle began receiving consistent care and slowly grew stronger. Everett enrolled her in a good nearby school, filled one bedroom with books she loved, and spent afternoons teaching her chess.
She started calling him Grandpa Everett without anyone suggesting it.
The first time she did, he froze.
Then smiled.
That smile remained for the rest of the evening.
Watching them together should have reassured me.
Instead, part of me stayed nervous.
Good things had never lasted long in my life.
My father died when I was young. My mother became emotionally distant afterward, and I learned early to depend on myself.
Then I married Brielle’s father, Dalton.
