Thomas smiled.
“Maybe you don’t need it anymore.”
I looked at my son.
For years, I had believed Emily’s voice in the dream meant one thing.
Find the baby.
But maybe that wasn’t the whole message.
Maybe the baby was never the only thing I was supposed to find.
Maybe the journey toward Liam was also supposed to lead me toward something else.
A hidden danger.
A second chance.
More time.
I reached into the crib.
Liam’s tiny fingers wrapped around mine.
I whispered,
“You found me too.”
Thomas looked at me.
“What?”
I smiled through my tears.
“Nothing.”
But I knew.
Somewhere inside me, I felt that Emily was finally at peace.
I had spent four years believing that losing her had marked the end of something.
Instead, somehow, life had shown me that grief and hope could exist in the same heart.
I was sixty-one when I became pregnant.
