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“Yes.”

Hayley wipes her cheek.

“Then I'm grateful to both of them.”

That breaks me.

I walk across the kitchen and hug her.

Hayley's arms close around me.

Not too tight.

She doesn't hold me like she's afraid I'll disappear.

She just holds me.

“My mom was a good person,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“She took me from you.”

“She also kept you safe.”

I pull back.

“You aren't angry?”

Hayley thinks about it.

“I was.”

The honesty surprises me.

“For a long time, I imagined terrible things because I didn't know where you were.”

She looks at me.

“But now I know.”

“What?”

“You were loved.”

I start crying again.

“This house has too much crying.”

Sean's voice comes from the hallway.

I look over Hayley's shoulder.

He's standing there in sweatpants and a T-shirt, his hair messy from running his hands through it.

Arthur looks at the clock.

“Three forty-eight.”