Lucas stayed in my arms longer than he used to when he was younger.
Back then, he’d pull away first—like he was embarrassed to need comfort.
Now he didn’t move at all.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The house felt different, like it was finally ours in a way it hadn’t been for years.
Then Lucas stepped back and wiped his eyes quickly, almost annoyed at himself.
“I didn’t tell you earlier because I wasn’t sure you’d believe me,” he said.
I gave a shaky laugh. “I didn’t believe my own kitchen table ten minutes ago. Try me.”
That earned a small smile.
He gestured toward the documents still spread out on the table. “We should secure everything. Auntie won’t stop after this.”
The calm in his voice unsettled me. Not fear—focus.
“You sound like you’ve been preparing for war,” I said.
Lucas shrugged. “I’ve had eight years of watching her test boundaries.”
That landed heavier than I expected.
I sat back down slowly. “So what now?”
Lucas looked at me for a long second.
“Now we stop surviving and start protecting what Mom actually left us.”
He tapped the trust document.
Not money.
Not the house.
“Safety,” he said. “She left us safety. We just didn’t know it until tonight.”
Outside, a car passed slowly down the street. Normal life continuing like nothing had changed.
But inside, everything had.
For the first time since the accident, I didn’t feel like I was waiting for the next thing to fall apart.
I felt like we had finally caught it mid-air.