72

Sierra's POV

Three months after the trial, things were different. Not perfect. But different.

The house didn't feel haunted anymore. We changed things. New paint in the bedroom. New curtains that you couldn't see through. We turned the basement into a playroom for Katie, with bright colors and soft rugs. No more dark corners.

Louis smiled more. Real smiles, not the tight ones from before. He came home early most days. We ate dinner together like normal people.

Katie stopped asking about the bad man. She was too busy with school and friends and her new obsession: horses. She wanted one. Badly.

"Please, Mommy, please! They're so pretty! I'll take care of it every single day!"

I looked at Louis. He looked at me. We both knew who would end up taking care of it.

"We'll think about it," I said, which is parent code for "probably not."

Katie sighed the huge sigh of a deeply disappointed seven-year-old.

Spring turned into summer. We went to the beach. We had barbecues. We invited friends over. Normal people things.

But at night, sometimes, I'd wake up in a cold sweat. Heart pounding. Listening. Always listening.

Louis would wake up too. He'd pull me close and just hold me. No words. Just his arms, warm and solid.

"It gets better," he whispered one night. "The nightmares. They get fewer."

"How do you know?"

"I had them too. After Victor. After other things." He kissed my hair. "They fade."

I wanted to believe him.

One Saturday, we took Katie to a horse farm. Just to look. Just to see. Big mistake.

She fell in love with a fat, friendly pony named Buttercup. She fed her carrots and brushed her mane and talked to her like they were old friends.

"She needs me, Mommy," Katie said, her eyes huge and serious. "Buttercup is lonely."

The lady who ran the farm smiled at us. "She's actually very popular. But she does love children."

Louis leaned close to me. "We're getting a pony, aren't we?"

"Absolutely not."

"We're getting a pony."

We got a pony.

Well, not really. We paid the farm to let Katie visit Buttercup twice a week. It was cheaper than buying one. And less messy.

Katie was over the moon. She made a chart of all the things she would do for Buttercup. She drew pictures of them together. She named her stuffed animals after her.

It was nice. Seeing her so happy. So carefree.

That summer, we went to Vivienne's house for a week. The big one on the cliff. She was different too. Softer. She played with Katie for hours. She even taught her to bake cookies.

"She's a lovely child," Vivienne said to me one afternoon. We were sitting on the terrace, watching Katie chase butterflies. "You've done well."

"Thank you," I said. It felt weird, getting a compliment from her.

"I was wrong about you," Vivienne said. She didn't look at me. She looked at the ocean. "I thought you were weak. Too soft for this life. But you're not weak. You're the strongest one."

I didn't know what to say. So I just said, "Thank you," again.

She nodded. We sat in silence. But it was a nice silence. Not awkward.

That night, after Katie was asleep, Louis and I walked on the beach. The moon was huge and orange over the water. The waves crashed soft and steady.

"Remember when we first came here?" Louis asked. "Years ago. Right after we got married."

"I remember," I said. It felt like a different lifetime. A different me.

"We were so young. So stupid." He laughed a little. "I was so busy being the boss I forgot to be the husband."

"You're better now," I said.

"Took me long enough."

We walked a little more. Then he stopped. He turned to face me. The moon made his face silver.

"I want to do something," he said. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

He reached into his pocket. My heart skipped. Was he...?

He pulled out a small box. Not a ring box. Different. He opened it.

Inside was a key. A normal house key on a silver keychain.

"What's this?" I asked.

"The house. Our house. It's always been in my name. From before. But I want it to be ours. Really ours." He looked nervous. "I put your name on the deed. It's half yours. Legally. Officially."

I stared at the key. At him. At the key again.

"You... you gave me half the house?"

"It's not just my house anymore, Sierra. It's ours. It should be official."

I started crying. Stupid, messy crying. He looked panicked.

"Is that bad? Is that the wrong thing?"

"No," I laughed through the tears. "It's perfect. It's the most perfect thing."

I kissed him right there on the beach, with the moon watching and the waves clapping.

We walked back to the house holding hands. I kept looking at the key. My key. To my house.

That night, in our big guest room with the ocean view, we made love. Slow and sweet. Different from all the other times. No fear. No desperation. Just us. Just love.

After, I lay with my head on his chest, listening to his heart.

"I love our life," I whispered.

"I love you," he whispered back.

Summer ended. Katie started second grade. She made new friends. She forgot about Buttercup a little, but we still visited sometimes.

Louis's work got busy again, but he still came home for dinner. We still had family movie nights. We still built blanket forts on weekends.

The nightmares came less often. Sometimes I'd go a whole week without one. Then two.

One night, I woke up and didn't know why. I just lay there, listening. The house was quiet. Louis was breathing soft beside me. Katie's monitor was silent.

Then I realized. I wasn't scared. For the first time in forever, I woke up and wasn't scared.

I smiled in the dark. I snuggled closer to Louis and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I got a letter. Real mail, with a stamp and everything. It was from a prison address.

I stared at it for a long time. My hands shook.

Louis came up behind me. "What's that?"

I showed him. His face went hard.

"Don't open it," he said.

"I have to."

I opened it. The paper was plain. The handwriting was neat. Familiar.

*Dear Sierra,*

*I know you probably won't read this. But I had to write anyway. I think about you every day. In here, it's quiet. Too quiet. So I think about your laugh. Your smile. The way you looked at me in the courtroom.*

*I'm not crazy. I know what they say. But I'm not. I just saw something beautiful and wanted to be near it. Is that so wrong?*

*They have me on medication now. It makes me foggy. But it doesn't stop the dreams. You're in my dreams every night. You're happy there. With me.*

*I know you're with him. I know. But he doesn't love you the way I do. He can't. He's too busy being important. I would have been happy just watching you forever. Just being near.*

*They say I can't contact you. This letter is against the rules. But I had to tell you. I'll always be here. Thinking of you. Waiting.*

*Yours,*

*Lyle*

I read it twice. Then I handed it to Louis.

He read it. His jaw got tight. He looked at me.

"What do you want to do?"

I thought about it. I thought about the singing. The cellar. The chloroform. The smile in the courtroom.

"I want to burn it," I said.

So we did. We went outside, to the garden where he used to watch us. Louis lit a match. The paper caught fire and curled into ash.

The wind took the ash away. Scattered it over the flowers.

I looked at Louis. He looked at me.

"It's over," I said.

"It's over," he agreed.

We walked back inside. Katie was eating cereal at the kitchen island, watching cartoons on a tablet.

"Mommy! Daddy! Look, the funny cat is stuck again!"

We laughed. Real laughs.

That night, we had pizza and watched a movie. Katie fell asleep on the couch between us. We carried her to bed together.

In our room, getting ready for sleep, I looked at myself in the mirror. The woman looking back was different from the one who started this story. Stronger. Happier. Loved.

Louis came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder.

"What are you looking at?"

"Myself," I said. "I think I like her now."

"Good," he said. "I've always liked her."

I turned in his arms and kissed him. Soft. Sweet.

The future wasn't perfect. There would probably be other storms. Other ghosts. Other battles.

But we would face them together. Louis and me. Katie. Our weird, broken, beautiful family.

And for now, that was enough.

For now, we were home.