part 10
On Christmas Eve, the snow began to fall in soft, thick flakes that blanketed the neighborhood in a pristine layer of white.
Wren and I sat on the living room rug in front of the crackling electric fireplace, wearing matching red flannel pajamas and drinking mugs of hot chocolate topped with mountains of whipped cream.
Outside, the world was quiet, glowing under the gentle light of streetlamps and falling snow.
"Mom?" Wren asked softly, leaning her head against my shoulder as we watched the warm amber lights of our Christmas tree twinkle in the dark.
"Yes, my love?"
"Is this our best Christmas ever?"
I looked down at her bright, happy face, then glanced up at the mantlepiece where Callum’s smiling eyes watched over us from the center of our home. I thought about where we had been exactly one year ago tonight—sitting at a cold, hostile dining room table, listening to words meant to crush our spirits, waiting for permission to escape.
May you like
And I thought about where we were now: safe, warm, deeply loved, and entirely free.
I wrapped my arms around my daughter, pulling her close against my chest.
