“That doesn’t erase the hard ones.”

He nodded.

They put Hope down for a supervised moment in her bassinet while the adults unpacked.

Nobody declared the family healed.

Nobody gave a speech.

But there were bottles to prepare, appointments to check, laundry to fold, and a little girl who needed the next person to show up.

That evening, Hannah texted a photograph of Lucas sitting in the rocking chair, awake and alert, holding Hope as she slept.

The caption read: First evening home.