Emma took the mug and smiled.

“Thank you, Grandma,” Emma said.

Eleanor went back inside to check the oven.

I drank my hot chocolate and watched the evening settle over Oak Creek.

The terrible weight I had carried since the crash on Highway 24 was finally gone.

Emma leaned her head against my shoulder on the porch swing as twilight fell.

The cold wind came up through the yard, and Eleanor brought out a wool blanket to wrap around Emma’s knees.

We stayed on the porch swing until the streetlights blinked on down Elm Street.