“What happens now?” Dylan asked, breaking the quiet spell. “With the house, with the legal fallout, with everything else?”
“Now?” I smiled faintly, reaching across the table to pick up one of the warm chocolate chip cookies. I broke it neatly in half and handed him a piece. “Now, we eat our dinner. And tomorrow, we figure out what it actually means to stop looking over our shoulders.”
Dylan took a bite, closing his eyes for a second as the familiar, nostalgic flavor hit him. A genuine, unguarded smile broke across his face—the exact same radiant smile the eight-year-old boy had flashed me the very first time I handed him a warm, fresh cookie across our chilly front step two decades ago.
“It tastes the exact same,” he whispered in awe.
“Some things in this life are too important to ever change,” I replied softly.
Chapter 4: A Doorway Unlocked
