“Mom,” he whispered, “do you think the other kids will get to go home too?”

I cupped his cheek.
“I hope so, sweetheart. And you helped make that possible.”

Caleb wrapped his arms around Noah’s shoulders.

“We’re not letting anything happen to you ever again.”

For the first time in months—

Noah smiled.

And I realized then:

Our family wasn’t destroyed.
It was surviving.
Healing.
Rebuilding—a little stronger each day.