Chapter 10
We moved into a small rental house in Oak Park.
No basement.
That was my first requirement.
Two bedrooms.
Yellow kitchen.
A backyard with one crooked tree.
Noah walked through every room with Dr. Kim’s brave rock in his fist.
“Where’s downstairs?” he asked the realtor.
“There isn’t one,” she said.
He looked at me.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He smiled for half a second.
That was enough.
Emma helped me unpack.
Frank sent money for furniture through Grace.
I almost refused.
Grace said, “Take support that benefits Noah. It does not require emotional access.”
So I bought Noah a bed shaped like a race car.
He loved it.
Then slept on the floor beside it for three nights.
Progress has strange timing.
My job gave me remote hours.
My boss, Elena, cried when I told her the outline.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Take the time you need.”
Diane would have hated that.
A woman with authority believing me without demanding a performance.
The first week in the new house, Noah asked for pancakes every morning.
I burned half of them.
He ate them anyway.
“Crunchy,” he said politely.
One afternoon, a letter arrived.
No return address.
Inside was a photo of Diane holding newborn Noah at the hospital.
On the back, someone had written:
He was mine first.
I called Grace.
Then the police.
Noah never saw it.
Frank confirmed the handwriting was Diane’s.
But Diane was in jail.
That meant someone mailed it for her.
Melissa denied it.
Mark denied it.
Ryan denied it.
Then Aunt Carol called.
Her voice shook.
“Sarah, I need to tell you something.”
I gripped the phone.
“What?”
“Diane has a cousin. Patricia. She visited her yesterday.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because Patricia always believed Diane. Always.”
The next day, Patricia appeared at Noah’s school.
She told the office she was his grandmother.
She had a fake permission note.
The secretary called me because Grace had already sent court orders to the school.
By the time I arrived, police were there.
Patricia stood in the lobby, furious.
“This family is being torn apart by lies.”
I walked straight to her.
“Noah is not your family project.”
She sneered.
“Diane says the boy needs real raising.”
Officer Patel stepped between us.
Patricia was arrested for violating the protective order by proxy.
Noah heard about it from a classmate whose mother saw the police car.
That night, he asked, “Can Grandma send people?”
“She tried. She failed.”
“Will she try again?”
I wanted to lie.
Instead, I said, “Maybe. But more people know the truth now. More doors are locked against her.”
He thought about that.
“Good locks?”
“Very good.”
He placed his brave rock on the windowsill.
“For the house.”
May you like
I kissed his forehead.
“For the house.”
