“I’m teaching them hope,” she corrected gently. “It helps children feel connected, even when life becomes too big or too strange.”
He hesitated. “I haven’t believed in much since my wife passed.”
Rosie looked at him without pity. “You didn’t abandon them. You abandoned the version of yourself who knew how to breathe. But you’re finding your way back.”
Her honesty struck him harder than any criticism could have. He didn’t answer, but something in him softened.
The turning point came during a violent storm that cut the power in the middle of the night. The boys woke screaming. Marcus raced to their room and found them huddled together, tears streaming down their cheeks. Before he could think, he gathered them into his arms and held them close.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice firm. “The thunder can’t get you. I’ve got you.”
“Tell us the goodnight words,” Jasper sobbed.
Rosie whispered the opening line, and Marcus took over. His voice steadied as he spoke gratitude for the roof, for the warm blankets, for their little hands clinging to him.