locked on the stuffed bear in Owen’s arms.
And for the first time, I saw real fear.
Not fear of police.
Not fear of scandal.
Not fear of consequences.
Fear of that bear.
Owen must have felt it too, because he pulled the toy closer and buried his chin against its worn brown head.
I lowered myself beside him again.
“That bear has been through a lot,” I said.
Owen nodded.
“What’s his name?”
“Captain.”
“Captain,” I repeated. “Good name.”
“Daddy gave him to me when I was little.”
“You’re still little,” Lily whispered.
Owen frowned at her. “Not that little.”
For the first time, a faint smile touched her face.
It lasted only a second, but I saw it.
And for reasons I could not explain, that tiny smile felt like a promise I had no right to make and no intention of breaking.
The next two hours unfolded
