It happened months later.

In a quiet backyard.

Under soft spring sunlight.

Lily and Noah stood beside their grandmother and father, planting a tree.

A cherry blossom.

Pink.

Their mother’s favorite.

“We’re safe now,” Noah said.

Lily squeezed his hand.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

Then looked at the tree.

At her family.

At the life rebuilt from nothing.

“Not just safe,” she said.

“We’re home.”

And for the first time in years—

they believed it.