I walked toward them without hesitation.
“I’m sorry. My name should have protected you in this house. Instead, you sat in an airport wondering whether grief had made you disposable.”
Leo looked from one adult to another before asking the question that had clearly been troubling him all day.
“Are we in trouble?”
I smiled and gently rested a hand on his shoulder.
“No, buddy.”
He looked up at his mother.
“Can Mommy stay?”
I answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Your mother can remain here as long as she wants.”
His small face relaxed just a little before he asked one final question.
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“And me?”
“You too.”
He glanced toward the hallway that led to the guest house where he had lived with his parents.
“In Daddy’s house?”
I nodded.
“Yes. In Daddy’s house.”
As I looked at my grandson standing safely beside his mother once again, I realized something I should have understood long before that afternoon. A family name means nothing if it cannot protect the people who carry it with love instead of entitlement. Liam had trusted me to look after the family he left behind, and although I had failed to stop Beatrice before she caused unimaginable pain, I would never allow anyone to make Elena or Leo question whether they belonged under our roof again.
