“Mama…” Anna’s voice trembled as she hurried into the room, gripping a paper like it was something fragile. “I made this for you.”
Sarah blinked quickly, brushing away her tears before crouching down. “Let me see it.”
Anna handed it over with both hands, proud as if she were presenting a medal. Sparkles and uneven letters spelled out:
WORLD’S BRAVEST MOM
Beneath it was a stick-figure drawing — Sarah holding Elijah, Anna by her side, their home behind them. Their life, captured in a child’s lines.
Sarah let out a shaky laugh, the kind that breaks something open inside. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Anna threw her arms around her, nearly toppling her. Sarah held her tightly — the kind of embrace that says I’m here now. I’m staying.
Jerome stepped back to give them the moment, but Sarah instinctively reached out and caught his wrist without looking. A quiet, wordless request:
Don’t go.
He didn’t move.
When she finally loosened her hold on Anna, Sarah rose and turned toward him. Her eyes were red, but steady — more sure than he had ever seen them.
“You didn’t just save us,” she said softly. “You gave us a life to come back to.”
Jerome shook his head. “This life? You created it. I only helped clear the wreckage.”
She stepped closer, close enough that he could hear her breathing. “I want you to be a part of it. Not as a guest. Not as the guy who showed up when things were bad.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “As someone who belongs with us.”
Jerome’s chest tightened. For the first time since he’d met her, Sarah wasn’t guarded. She wasn’t shrinking. She wasn’t waiting for something to go wrong.
She was choosing him.
“And not because we need you,” she added, voice soft but firm. “Because we want you.”
Anna beamed, as if she’d been waiting for them to catch up to what she already knew. Elijah kicked happily in his stroller, babbling approval.
Jerome swallowed. “Then I’m here,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Sarah let out a long, trembling breath — one she felt like she’d been holding for years. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m done just surviving. I’m ready to live.”
Jerome held out his hand. She didn’t hesitate — her fingers slipped into his like they were meant to.
Behind them, Anna lifted her certificate high like she was declaring victory at the end of the world’s toughest competition.
“Can we hang it in the kitchen?” she asked excitedly.
Sarah laughed. “Of course we can.”
“And can Mr. Carter stay for dinner?” Anna added, hopeful.
Sarah met Jerome’s eyes, then her daughter’s.
“He’s staying for everything,” she said.
And just like that — without dramatic music or big announcements — the four of them stepped into something new.
Not flawless. Not simple.
But theirs.
A family they fought their way into.
A family built honestly, painfully, beautifully.
A family built to last.