Chapter 16
Noah’s boxes came out of storage one by one.
I let him choose what returned to his room.
Toy cars.
Books.
Night-light.
Elena’s photograph.
The photograph stayed.
Victoria once thought Sophie could never feel secure while reminders of Noah’s mother remained visible.
She had been wrong.
When Sophie saw the frame, she asked:
“Is that Noah’s mommy?”
“Yes.”
“She’s pretty.”
Noah nodded proudly.
“My mommy.”
No competition.
No ghost fighting a living child.
Just truth.
That evening, Sophie asked if she could put a photograph of her father in the guest room she used.
“Of course.”
She looked surprised.
That hurt.
“Mom said it might make things uncomfortable.”
“For who?”
She shrugged.
I understood.
Victoria had been trying to build permanence by removing every reminder that the children belonged to stories that started before us.
But healthy families do not require amnesia.
Sophie could miss her father.
Noah could remember his mother.
May you like
I could care about both children.
Nothing had to disappear for something new to exist.
