Chapter 8: The Warmth of Hope
That evening, Lily sat on the couch in Sarah’s apartment, clutching a box of colored pencils Sarah had found in a drawer. For hours, she drew dark gray boxes with big black locks on them.
Jack sat down beside her on the floor, taking a red pencil from the box. He drew a bright red heart over one of the locks, then colored a glowing sun above the dark boxes.
Lily stopped drawing and stared at his addition. ""Can you rub the locks away, Daddy?""
""We can do better than that,"" Jack said softly. He took an eraser and gently rubbed out the black pencil marks until the dark box faded into grey dust. ""We erase them completely.""
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Lily took the eraser from his hand and began erasing the dark boxes she had drawn, her small hands working with fierce determination. A real, genuine laugh bubbled out of her chest—a warm, bright sound that shattered the heavy tension in the room.
Jack closed his eyes for a second, holding back tears of relief. The scars were deep, but her soul wasn't broken.
