The next morning, my phone was flooded with messages from my family, each more frantic than the last. Missed calls from my mother, a string of angry texts from Derek, all attempting to guilt-trip or intimidate me into “making things right.”
I ignored them. Instead, I focused on Lucas. I planned a day that was solely about him, to help him heal from the nightmarish scene at the BBQ. We visited the local toy store, not to replace what was lost, but to explore and create new memories. He picked out a set of colorful building blocks, a puzzle, and a small robot that lit up and made funny noises. Lucas’s smile returned with each toy he picked, and with every smile, my resolve grew stronger.
