That evening, after the twins were asleep, Sarah found Emily sitting on the porch steps.
“What are you thinking about?”
Emily shrugged.
“Nothing.”
Sarah sat beside her.
After a minute, Emily leaned against her shoulder.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“If you sleep for three days again…”
Sarah smiled sadly.
“I won’t.”
“But if you do?”
Sarah looked down at her.
Emily’s expression was serious.
“If you do, I’m calling 911 first.”
Sarah laughed so suddenly that tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“And I’m not walking seven miles.”
“Good.”
“And I’m not pushing two babies.”
“Excellent plan.”
Emily rested her head against Sarah.
“Daddy can do it.”
From inside the house, Michael called, “I heard that.”
Emily giggled.
Sarah kissed the top of her head.
The farmhouse lights glowed behind them.
The twins slept safely inside.
Michael was home.
The doors were locked.
And the little brass house key that had once hung around Emily’s neck now rested inside a small frame beside the family photograph in the living room.
Beneath it, Sarah had written just five words.
She brought us all home.
