There was only warm light, and a secondhand piano, and a boy who was, at last, safe enough to make something beautiful and expect that someone would be glad of it.

He finished his piece with a clear, gentle chord, and he turned around on the bench, and he looked up at me with bright, happy, wholly unguarded eyes — the guardedness gone, the watchful stillness gone, a child’s face given back to a child.

Chapter 20 — Never Let Go

“Did you like that one, Mom?” he asked.

I crossed the sunroom and wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind and kissed the top of his head, and I breathed him in, my whole and healing boy.

“I loved every single note, Leo,” I said.