I smiled.
“As completely as anyone can be.”
She seemed to consider that.
Then she whispered, “Good.”
A moment later she was asleep again.
I remained there for several minutes.
Listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing.
The sound of peace.
The sound I once feared I might lose.
Outside, snow continued to fall.
Soft.
Silent.
Beautiful.
When I finally walked downstairs, I paused beside the old walnut crib one last time.
My father’s crib.
Nora’s crib.
The crib that had witnessed the worst day of my life and somehow survived long enough to see the best ones.
I ran my hand along the polished wood.
Then I smiled.
Not because justice had won.
Not because karma had arrived.
Not because the people who hurt me eventually paid the price.
Those things mattered less than I once believed.
I smiled because my daughter slept safely upstairs.
Because love had stayed.
Because we had.
And beyond the window, beneath a sky full of falling snow, the world looked bright and clean and endless.
Five years earlier, the snow had turned red.
Tonight, it remained white.
And this time, it always would.
