The kind of happiness that comes from standing too close to something you thought you’d lost forever. Rosalind looked at them too. “If there’s even a chance,” she said softly, “maybe it’s worth trying.” Jack looked upstairs. At Eli. At Willow. At the shape of a life he had stopped allowing himself to imagine. When they left, Eli lingered by the door.
“Can we come back?” he asked. Jack looked at him. Then at Rosalind. At Sarah’s face. And standing there, Jack found himself running out of reasons not to believe. “Yeah,” he said quietly. That was how it started. Not all at once. In pieces. Visits first. Then dinners. Then overnight stays when Willow fell asleep on the couch or Eli asked if they could come back the next day.