CHAPTER FOUR: LUCAS

The sound of small footsteps echoed down the hallway as Lissa sat at the kitchen table, staring at the half-filled mug of coffee in front of her. It was still early—too early for the weight of the day to settle on her shoulders—but the world outside was already waking up.

"Momma!" Lucas’s voice called out, high-pitched and full of excitement, as he barreled into the kitchen.

Lissa’s gaze softened as she looked up, her heart lightening just a little. Lucas was standing there, his hair a mess of wild curls, his pajamas covered in tiny cartoon dinosaurs. He had that look—the one that said he was on the verge of a new adventure, ready to explore anything and everything. To him, the world was a wonderland of possibilities.

"Good morning, baby," Lissa said with a smile, though her exhaustion tugged at her words.

She watched Lucas for a minute with a tenderness she couldn’t quite put into words. Sometimes, she wondered if he had any idea how much she relied on his energy to keep going.

She watched Lucas for a minute with a tenderness she couldn’t quite put into words. Sometimes, she wondered if he had any idea how much she relied on his energy to keep going.

Sometimes, when Lucas tilted his head just so, or grinned that wide, crooked grin, Lissa saw him—the one no one knew about. The man behind the secret she had buried deeper than anything else. Lucas’s real father. The reason for the sleepless nights, the panic attacks, the letters she still kept hidden in the back of her closet, signed only with a single, trembling T. No one had ever asked, not really. And she’d never told. It was easier to let people assume. Safer. Because saying his name out loud might make him real again—and Lissa wasn’t ready for that.

As Lucas scampered over to the refrigerator, trying to reach the juice, Lissa’s thoughts flickered back to the night before—the house so still, and the nagging feeling that her past was creeping closer. She pushed it aside, focusing on Lucas’s little hands trying to open the fridge door.

“Here, let me help,” Lissa said, rising from the table.

Lucas beamed up at her. “Thanks, Momma! I want orange juice today.”

“Orange juice it is,” she said, pouring the juice into a cup and handing it to him. He took it with both hands, his face lighting up with satisfaction.

As she watched him drink, Lissa’s thoughts wandered.

She’d come back to this place to escape, to find some semblance of peace. But Lucas was a reminder that peace wasn’t just something she had to find—it was something she had to create for him. For them both.

“Lucas,” she said gently, as he finished his juice. “Do you want to go for a walk later? Maybe see if we can find come pretty rocks.”

His face lit up.

“YESSSSSSS!” Lucas yelled loudly.

Lissa’s heart warmed at his words. He had always been a bundle of energy, his innocence a sharp contrast to the shadow that loomed over her. But in moments like this, when she saw the world through his eyes, it was easier to breathe, easier to remember what she was fighting for.

As Lucas bounded over to the door, ready for the day’s adventure. Lissa stood there for a moment, watching him. He was her anchor, her reason to keep moving forward, even when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“Alright, let’s go for a walk,” Lissa said, taking a deep breath and feeling the weight of the day shift just a little bit.

Lucas’s laughter filled the room, a pure sound that seemed to push all the shadows back just a little further.

“Let’s go!” She said as she smiled at her son.

And for that moment, Lissa let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, this small town and the secrets it held couldn’t take everything from her. Not if Lucas was by her side.

Lissa decided it was a great time to show Lucas the river.