where he worked on Saturdays.
He held a clean gray rag in one hand.
Evelyn stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Mason inspected the shining windshield with exaggerated seriousness.
“Working.”
She opened her purse.
He raised a hand.
“Cash after.
Only if it’s done properly.”
It was the first joke she had ever heard him make.
Caleb and Theo laughed from the porch.
Lily stood between them, her blue ribbon bright against her hair.
The crescent mark on her wrist was uncovered now.
She no longer pulled down her sleeve when strangers looked at it.
Evelyn walked toward the children, not as the billionaire who had rescued them and not as the ruthless woman the newspapers had described, but as an aunt learning how to become family again.
Behind her, the Escalade reflected all four children in its polished door.
This time, none of them looked ready to run.
