Chapter 8 - The Children Finally Tell the Truth
Six months later, Micah finally described the three days completely.
He did it without warning.
They were sitting in the backyard.
Elsie chased bubbles across the grass.
Micah said, “The first night wasn't scary.”
Rowan put down his coffee.
“No?”
“We thought Mom was coming back.”
He explained how they watched television.
How he gave Elsie cereal.
How they fell asleep together.
The second morning, Elsie asked for their mother.
Micah told her she was working.
By afternoon, the milk was gone.
That night, the lights frightened them.
On the third morning, Elsie became sick.
Micah tried the neighbor, but nobody answered.
Then he remembered the old telephone.
He knew Rowan’s number because Delaney had made him memorize it months earlier.
“I almost didn't call.”
“Why?”
“Mom said not to.”
Rowan’s eyes burned.
“What changed your mind?”
Micah watched Elsie.
“She wouldn't wake up.”
Rowan pulled his son close.
“You made the right choice.”
“I know now.”
That answer mattered.
Not “I think.”
Not “maybe.”
I know.
Micah was healing.
Then he asked:
“Dad, if something bad happens again, can I always call you?”
Rowan kissed his hair.
“Always.”
“Even if you're working?”
“Especially if I'm working.”
“Even in a meeting?”
“Micah, you could interrupt me while I'm talking to the President.”
Micah grinned.
“What if you're talking to Batman?”
Rowan considered it.
“That’s tougher.”
Micah punched his arm.
Rowan laughed.
“Fine. Even Batman.”
Across the yard, Elsie shouted, “I WANT BATMAN!”
Delaney stepped through the gate carrying groceries.
“Why is everyone yelling about Batman?”
Micah ran toward her.
Rowan watched them.
Six months earlier, that sight would have seemed impossible.
His children laughing.
Delaney safe.
No police.
No hospital monitors.
No unanswered calls.
Just ordinary life.
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And Rowan had learned that ordinary life was not ordinary at all.
It was precious.
