He was arrested beneath the broken statue of Justice.
It should have felt like victory.
It did not.
Not yet.
Because families do not heal when the villain is handcuffed.
They simply stop bleeding long enough to count the wounds.
At the hospital, Adrian underwent emergency surgery.
I waited in a private room with Samuel in my arms, Leo and Noah asleep nearby, and Nathaniel sitting across from me with a blanket around his shoulders.
My brother.
Alive.
A stranger.
A ghost returned with bruised wrists.
He looked at the babies for a long time.
“Triplets,” he said softly. “You always did overachieve.”
I laughed through tears.
It startled both of us.
Then he smiled.
And for a second, I saw the boy from the portrait.
“Do you remember me?” I asked.
His smile faded into tenderness. “A little. You had curls. You bit my arm once because I wouldn’t let you eat a marble.”
