before six.
He climbed into my bed holding his green dinosaur, the same toy I’d packed during our escape.
Lily followed, dragging her stuffed elephant.
“Christmas,” she whispered.
I pulled them beneath the blankets.
“Not yet.”
“Now,” Noah insisted.
I laughed.
“Five more minutes.”
“No.”
Apparently, stubbornness ran in the family.
They dragged me downstairs.
Tiny white lights illuminated the living room.
Presents filled the space beneath the tree.
Snow had fallen overnight.
For a moment, it resembled our former Manhattan apartment.
Then Lily climbed onto my lap.
Noah began
