That night, we slept in our own beds for the first time since the funeral. I tucked Emma in, making sure Mr. Whiskers was in his place on the left side of the bed.
“Mommy?” she asks as she falls asleep. “Is Grandma Margaret going to prison?”
I smoothed her hair back. “I don’t know, darling. But she can’t hurt us anymore.”
Liam was already under the covers, but his eyes were wide open.
“You were very brave today, Mom,” he said as I sat on the edge of his bed.
I smiled at him. “You’re the one who taught me that.”
