“Thank you, Joanie, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that from another grown-up today,” I said, letting out a ragged breath of relief.

“You make sure that little boy knows his Aunt Joanie didn’t agree to take him because he wasn’t wanted, Claire, please make sure he knows that,” she begged before we hung up.

I sat on the edge of the bed for one more full minute, pulling together the broken pieces of my strength before turning the brass lock and pulling the door open.

Peter was standing right there in the narrow hallway, shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets like a naughty schoolboy waiting to be punished.