Six months passed before Vance's criminal proceedings reached their conclusion.<\/p>\n
I didn't measure those months only by court dates.<\/p>\n
I measured them by Wesley.<\/p>\n
The first time he smiled.<\/p>\n
The way he settled when I held him.<\/p>\n
The small sounds he made before falling asleep.<\/p>\n
The way his fingers curled around mine.<\/p>\n
Those moments became the center of my life.<\/p>\n
Everything else moved around them.<\/p>\n
The investigation continued.<\/p>\n
The divorce was completed without a contested hearing.<\/p>\n
The arrangements concerning Vance's supervised visitation remained in place while the criminal matter was unresolved.<\/p>\n
And I gradually learned to live without waiting for my husband's approval.<\/p>\n
That last change took longer than I expected.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I still caught myself preparing explanations.<\/p>\n
Why I had chosen something.<\/p>\n
Why I wanted to go somewhere.<\/p>\n
Why I needed time.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered I didn't have to defend every ordinary decision.<\/p>\n
I was allowed to make choices.<\/p>\n
For myself.<\/p>\n
For Wesley.<\/p>\n
For the life we were building.<\/p>\n
The house where Vance abandoned me was no longer home.<\/p>\n
I had retained it temporarily while arranging its sale.<\/p>\n
Whenever I thought about returning there, I remembered the hallway.<\/p>\n
The wooden floor.<\/p>\n
The brass lock.<\/p>\n
The ivory envelope.<\/p>\n
I remembered the distance between the table and the front door.<\/p>\n
How impossible it had felt.<\/p>\n
How I had dragged myself forward while another contraction tightened around me.<\/p>\n
I remembered hearing music through the phone.<\/p>\n
Then silence after Vance ended the call.<\/p>\n
Those memories were too closely tied to the house.<\/p>\n
I didn't want Wesley growing up in a place I associated with being abandoned.<\/p>\n
Warren never pressured me about the sale.<\/p>\n
He listened when I discussed it.<\/p>\n
He asked whether I understood the paperwork.<\/p>\n
And he let me make the decisions.<\/p>\n
I appreciated that.<\/p>\n
After the forged authorization, I had become careful about every document.<\/p>\n
I read each page.<\/p>\n
I checked every date.<\/p>\n
I asked questions whenever something wasn't clear.<\/p>\n
I made sure my signature appeared only on papers I understood and agreed to sign.<\/p>\n
Sometimes those habits made ordinary transactions take longer.<\/p>\n
I didn't mind.<\/p>\n
I had learned what could happen when someone else decided my name was theirs to use.<\/p>\n
The criminal proceedings involved a separate kind of waiting.<\/p>\n
Investigators examined the notarial records.<\/p>\n
They reviewed the security footage.<\/p>\n
They compared the recorded signing time with my hospital records.<\/p>\n
They examined the disputed authorization.<\/p>\n
And they considered the evidence connecting Brooke Callahan to the imitation of my signature.<\/p>\n
The facts remained painful.<\/p>\n
My name had appeared on a document signed at 9:42 a.m.<\/p>\n
The records showed I had been under anesthesia from approximately 9:05 until nearly noon.<\/p>\n
I couldn't have been present at the store.<\/p>\n
I hadn't authorized the transfer.<\/p>\n
And Vance had been the applicant seeking control over financial interests connected to my trust.<\/p>\n
Those were the facts I wanted the legal process to examine.<\/p>\n
I didn't ask Warren to interfere.<\/p>\n
He didn't offer to.<\/p>\n
He had spent decades building a powerful company.<\/p>\n
He knew influential people.<\/p>\n
He had resources that could make life easier in many ways.<\/p>\n
But he understood that the court's decision needed to come from the evidence.<\/p>\n
Not his reputation.<\/p>\n
Not his money.<\/p>\n
Not his anger.<\/p>\n
That mattered to me.<\/p>\n
I didn't want anyone claiming Vance had been punished because he offended Warren Sterling.<\/p>\n
I wanted the record to show what happened.<\/p>\n
The forged document.<\/p>\n
The attempted financial control.<\/p>\n
The false authorization.<\/p>\n
And the people responsible.<\/p>\n
As the proceedings continued, I received another voicemail from Diane.<\/p>\n
Her first message had been angry.<\/p>\n
She had accused me of embarrassing the family.<\/p>\n
She hadn't asked about Wesley.<\/p>\n
She hadn't asked whether I was recovering.<\/p>\n
I hadn't answered.<\/p>\n
Three weeks after that first message, she called again.<\/p>\n
This time, her voice sounded different.<\/p>\n
Quieter.<\/p>\n
Less certain.<\/p>\n
I listened while Wesley slept nearby.<\/p>\n
Diane said she hadn't known about the documents.<\/p>\n
She said she was sorry for what she had said during the emergency call.<\/p>\n
Then she fell silent.<\/p>\n
I sat with the phone in my hand.<\/p>\n
I didn't know what to feel.<\/p>\n
Part of me wanted to ask why it had taken so long.<\/p>\n
Why she hadn't apologized when she learned I needed emergency surgery.<\/p>\n
Why she had waited until the legal investigation made the situation impossible to ignore.<\/p>\n
Another part of me understood that she might genuinely regret her words.<\/p>\n
I couldn't know everything she felt.<\/p>\n
I couldn't know what Vance had told her.<\/p>\n
But I knew what she had said to me.<\/p>\n
And I knew what it had meant to hear those words while I was frightened for my unborn son.<\/p>\n
I didn't call her back immediately.<\/p>\n
I wasn't ready.<\/p>\n
An apology didn't erase the night.<\/p>\n
It didn't require me to restore a relationship before I felt comfortable.<\/p>\n
I placed the phone down.<\/p>\n
Then I looked at Wesley.<\/p>\n
He was sleeping peacefully.<\/p>\n
His little hand rested near his face.<\/p>\n
I watched him breathe.<\/p>\n
I remembered the incubator.<\/p>\n
The oxygen support.<\/p>\n
The first time I touched the clear surface and told him Mommy was there.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
He had come so far.<\/p>\n
And so had I.<\/p>\n
Warren entered the room a little later.<\/p>\n
He saw me watching Wesley.<\/p>\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n
"How's our little fellow?"<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
"Perfectly comfortable."<\/p>\n
Warren leaned closer.<\/p>\n
Wesley shifted.<\/p>\n
His grandfather immediately stopped moving.<\/p>\n
I laughed softly.<\/p>\n
"You can breathe."<\/p>\n
Warren looked embarrassed.<\/p>\n
"I don't want to wake him."<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
"You're learning."<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
"Slowly."<\/p>\n
I watched him sit beside the crib.<\/p>\n
He had become more confident with Wesley.<\/p>\n
He knew how to hold him.<\/p>\n
How to soothe him.<\/p>\n
How to recognize when he was becoming tired.<\/p>\n
He still worried.<\/p>\n
But I no longer saw the uncertainty that filled his face during our first meeting in the neonatal unit.<\/p>\n
He was becoming a grandfather through practice.<\/p>\n
Through ordinary days.<\/p>\n
Through showing up.<\/p>\n
I was becoming a mother the same way.<\/p>\n
Neither of us needed to know everything immediately.<\/p>\n
We were learning together.<\/p>\n
When the date of Vance's hearing approached, I felt nervous.<\/p>\n
Not because I expected him to convince me to return.<\/p>\n
That possibility had ended.<\/p>\n
But because I knew I would have to see him.<\/p>\n
I hadn't forgotten the man I married.<\/p>\n
I could still remember his smile.<\/p>\n
The way he stood beside me at our wedding.<\/p>\n
The confidence in his voice when he talked about our future.<\/p>\n
Those memories hadn't disappeared.<\/p>\n
They had simply become painful.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether seeing him would bring back the woman I used to be.<\/p>\n
The woman who apologized too quickly.<\/p>\n
The woman who tried to keep Diane happy.<\/p>\n
The woman who believed patience could repair almost anything.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to become that person again.<\/p>\n
Not because she had been weak.<\/p>\n
Because she had spent too much time ignoring what she needed.<\/p>\n
On the morning of the hearing, Warren accompanied me.<\/p>\n
I was grateful.<\/p>\n
I wore simple clothes.<\/p>\n
Nothing chosen to impress anyone.<\/p>\n
Nothing intended to make a statement.<\/p>\n
I wanted to be comfortable.<\/p>\n
I wanted to be myself.<\/p>\n
Before leaving, I checked on Wesley.<\/p>\n
He was resting peacefully.<\/p>\n
I touched his cheek.<\/p>\n
"Mommy will be back."<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
"Grandpa and I have something to take care of."<\/p>\n
Warren stood nearby.<\/p>\n
He looked at his grandson.<\/p>\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n
"Ready?"<\/p>\n
I took a breath.<\/p>\n
"Yes."<\/p>\n
The courthouse felt different from the hospital.<\/p>\n
The hospital had been frightening because I didn't know whether my son would survive.<\/p>\n
The courthouse was frightening because I knew I was about to hear the consequences of choices made by people I had trusted.<\/p>\n
There was no medical equipment.<\/p>\n
No incubator.<\/p>\n
No doctor watching Wesley's breathing.<\/p>\n
But I still felt the same tightness in my chest.<\/p>\n
Warren walked beside me.<\/p>\n
He didn't take over.<\/p>\n
He didn't speak for me.<\/p>\n
He simply stayed close.<\/p>\n
Inside, I saw Vance.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I stopped.<\/p>\n
He looked different.<\/p>\n
Not dramatically.<\/p>\n
He was still the man I had married.<\/p>\n
I recognized his face immediately.<\/p>\n
But the confidence I remembered had changed.<\/p>\n
He wasn't standing among important business associates.<\/p>\n
He wasn't talking about promotions.<\/p>\n
He wasn't wearing the expression of a man who believed he could control every conversation.<\/p>\n
He was facing the consequences of a criminal case.<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
Then I looked away.<\/p>\n
I had spent months thinking about what I might say.<\/p>\n
I imagined asking why he abandoned me.<\/p>\n
Why he hid the letters.<\/p>\n
Why he allowed someone to imitate my signature.<\/p>\n
Why he thought my family's financial interests belonged under his control.<\/p>\n
But none of those questions required an answer from him anymore.<\/p>\n
The investigation had established the evidence.<\/p>\n
The court would address the charges.<\/p>\n
And I had already decided to end our marriage.<\/p>\n
I didn't need another explanation to know where I stood.<\/p>\n
The proceedings continued.<\/p>\n
Vance entered a negotiated guilty plea.<\/p>\n
The charges involved forgery and fraud.<\/p>\n
I listened carefully.<\/p>\n
I wanted to understand the outcome.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to turn it into something larger or smaller than it was.<\/p>\n
The judge imposed a four-year prison sentence.<\/p>\n
I heard the words.<\/p>\n
Four years.<\/p>\n
I looked toward Vance.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I remembered him standing in our kitchen talking about the future.<\/p>\n
His career.<\/p>\n
His plans.<\/p>\n
The life he wanted.<\/p>\n
I wondered whether he had imagined any of this when he concealed Warren's letters.<\/p>\n
Whether he had imagined the financial petition would be examined.<\/p>\n
Whether he had imagined the notarial time would be compared with my anesthesia records.<\/p>\n
I couldn't know.<\/p>\n
I didn't need to.<\/p>\n
The sentence was real.<\/p>\n
The consequences were real.<\/p>\n
And the marriage we had once shared was over.<\/p>\n
Brooke Callahan's case also reached its conclusion.<\/p>\n
She received an eighteen-month sentence along with probationary conditions.<\/p>\n
I listened to the outcome.<\/p>\n
I felt no pleasure.<\/p>\n
I had never known her.<\/p>\n
I hadn't chosen to involve her in my life.<\/p>\n
But she had become part of the evidence concerning the false signature.<\/p>\n
I thought about the birthday celebration.<\/p>\n
The same evening I was crying on the hallway floor.<\/p>\n
The same evening Vance refused to leave.<\/p>\n
The evidence showed Brooke had practiced reproducing my signature during that celebration.<\/p>\n
That detail would always disturb me.<\/p>\n
Not because it was the only thing that mattered.<\/p>\n
Because it showed how far removed their concerns had been from mine.<\/p>\n
I had been afraid my son might die.<\/p>\n
They had been involved in preparing financial paperwork connected to my name.<\/p>\n
I couldn't understand how anyone could make those choices.<\/p>\n
But I no longer spent my days trying.<\/p>\n
When the judge finished, I remained seated for a moment.<\/p>\n
Warren looked toward me.<\/p>\n
I could feel his concern.<\/p>\n
I knew he was wondering how I felt.<\/p>\n
I wondered too.<\/p>\n
I had imagined relief.<\/p>\n
Maybe satisfaction.<\/p>\n
Perhaps even anger.<\/p>\n
Instead, I felt tired.<\/p>\n
The kind of tiredness that settles into a person after months of uncertainty.<\/p>\n
The criminal case had reached its conclusion.<\/p>\n
An important part of the story was over.<\/p>\n
But I didn't feel victorious.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to celebrate another person's imprisonment.<\/p>\n
I wanted to go home.<\/p>\n
I wanted to hold Wesley.<\/p>\n
I wanted to sit in the nursery while the afternoon light moved across the floor.<\/p>\n
I wanted ordinary things.<\/p>\n
Warren leaned closer.<\/p>\n
"Are you all right?"<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
Then I nodded.<\/p>\n
"I think so."<\/p>\n
He waited.<\/p>\n
I took a breath.<\/p>\n
"I'm ready to leave."<\/p>\n
He stood.<\/p>\n
Then he offered his hand.<\/p>\n
I took it.<\/p>\n
We walked toward the courthouse exit together.<\/p>\n
I could hear people moving around us.<\/p>\n
Quiet conversations.<\/p>\n
Footsteps.<\/p>\n
Doors opening.<\/p>\n
I kept my eyes forward.<\/p>\n
Outside, reporters were waiting.<\/p>\n
I hadn't expected to feel so uncomfortable seeing them.<\/p>\n
But when someone called Warren's name, I immediately wanted to step back.<\/p>\n
I didn't want my life reduced to a headline.<\/p>\n
I didn't want Wesley's birth treated like entertainment.<\/p>\n
I didn't want Catherine's history turned into a story about a billionaire's hidden daughter.<\/p>\n
One reporter called out a question.<\/p>\n
It was about me.<\/p>\n
About Warren's supposedly secret daughter.<\/p>\n
I stopped walking.<\/p>\n
The words hurt.<\/p>\n
Secret.<\/p>\n
I had spent thirty-two years believing my father didn't want me.<\/p>\n
Now strangers were describing me as though I had been deliberately hidden.<\/p>\n
I looked toward Warren.<\/p>\n
He stopped too.<\/p>\n
His expression became serious.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I thought he would ignore the question.<\/p>\n
Then he turned toward the reporters.<\/p>\n
His voice was calm.<\/p>\n
He explained that I wasn't a secret he had chosen to keep.<\/p>\n
I was the daughter he had spent years without knowing.<\/p>\n
The daughter he had finally found.<\/p>\n
And he intended to treasure the time we still had together.<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
There was no complicated speech.<\/p>\n
No attempt to discuss the investigation.<\/p>\n
No mention of his company.<\/p>\n
He simply spoke about me.<\/p>\n
His daughter.<\/p>\n
A person he was grateful to have found.<\/p>\n
I felt tears gathering.<\/p>\n
I looked down.<\/p>\n
Then I smiled.<\/p>\n
Warren turned back toward me.<\/p>\n
He didn't ask whether I wanted to speak.<\/p>\n
He could see that I didn't.<\/p>\n
He offered his arm.<\/p>\n
I took it.<\/p>\n
Then we continued down the courthouse steps.<\/p>\n
Wesley was waiting for us, and soon I had him sleeping comfortably in my arms.<\/p>\n
I looked down at his face.<\/p>\n
He was peaceful.<\/p>\n
Completely unaware of the questions reporters had been asking.<\/p>\n
Unaware of the sentence his father had received.<\/p>\n
Unaware of the years of lies that had separated my parents.<\/p>\n
He was simply my little boy.<\/p>\n
Wesley Brooks.<\/p>\n
A name chosen for himself.<\/p>\n
A middle name honoring Catherine.<\/p>\n
A child who would grow up knowing he was wanted.<\/p>\n
I held him carefully.<\/p>\n
Warren walked beside me.<\/p>\n
I didn't look back at the courthouse.<\/p>\n
I had heard the outcome.<\/p>\n
I understood it.<\/p>\n
And I was ready to move forward.<\/p>\n
That evening, we sat on the back porch of Warren's Lake Washington home.<\/p>\n
The air was calm.<\/p>\n
Lights began appearing across the water.<\/p>\n
I held Wesley against my chest.<\/p>\n
He had been sleeping.<\/p>\n
Then he woke slowly.<\/p>\n
His eyes opened.<\/p>\n
He looked around with the serious expression babies sometimes have when they seem to be studying everything.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
"Hello, sweetheart."<\/p>\n
Warren leaned closer.<\/p>\n
Wesley looked toward him.<\/p>\n
Then one tiny hand reached upward.<\/p>\n
His fingers touched the frame of Warren's glasses.<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
Warren looked down.<\/p>\n
"Those are mine, young man."<\/p>\n
His voice was exaggeratedly serious.<\/p>\n
Wesley moved his hand again.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
"I wouldn't be too sure about that."<\/p>\n
Warren laughed.<\/p>\n
He adjusted his glasses.<\/p>\n
Wesley watched him.<\/p>\n
For a moment, the three of us were simply enjoying the evening.<\/p>\n
No documents.<\/p>\n
No attorneys.<\/p>\n
No reporters.<\/p>\n
No questions about the trust.<\/p>\n
Just a grandfather trying to protect his glasses from a baby who had discovered something interesting.<\/p>\n
I leaned back in my chair.<\/p>\n
The lake was darkening.<\/p>\n
The lights across the water looked soft.<\/p>\n
I thought about the nursery.<\/p>\n
The crib Warren had assembled upside down.<\/p>\n
The photograph of Catherine outside the bookstore.<\/p>\n
The white handkerchief that still rested in my room.<\/p>\n
I thought about Aunt Ruth.<\/p>\n
How she would have loved Wesley.<\/p>\n
How she would have smiled to see me surrounded by people who cared.<\/p>\n
I missed her.<\/p>\n
I always would.<\/p>\n
Finding Warren hadn't erased that grief.<\/p>\n
It had simply given me another person with whom I could remember Catherine.<\/p>\n
Another person who understood that part of my life.<\/p>\n
I looked at Warren.<\/p>\n
He was watching Wesley with a smile.<\/p>\n
I thought about the man he had been thirty-three years earlier.<\/p>\n
Young.<\/p>\n
Ambitious.<\/p>\n
In love with a schoolteacher.<\/p>\n
Unaware that his father was interfering with the relationship.<\/p>\n
I thought about Catherine.<\/p>\n
Pregnant.<\/p>\n
Hurt.<\/p>\n
Believing Warren had rejected her.<\/p>\n
I thought about the letters she wrote.<\/p>\n
The ones that never reached him.<\/p>\n
And the two letters Warren later sent to me.<\/p>\n
The ones Vance concealed.<\/p>\n
So much of our family history had been changed by correspondence that never reached the person it was meant for.<\/p>\n
I looked down at Wesley.<\/p>\n
His tiny fingers were wrapped around my hand.<\/p>\n
I wondered what I would tell him when he was older.<\/p>\n
I wanted to be careful.<\/p>\n
I didn't want to teach him that everyone was untrustworthy.<\/p>\n
I didn't want him to grow up afraid of love.<\/p>\n
But I wanted him to understand that affection meant more than words.<\/p>\n
More than promises.<\/p>\n
More than a ring.<\/p>\n
I wanted him to know that love required honesty.<\/p>\n
And responsibility.<\/p>\n
And showing up when someone needed you.<\/p>\n
I looked toward the house.<\/p>\n
I remembered the night I lay on the floor.<\/p>\n
The rain.<\/p>\n
The pain.<\/p>\n
The silence inside my stomach.<\/p>\n
The call to Vance.<\/p>\n
The music behind his voice.<\/p>\n
I remembered asking him to come home.<\/p>\n
I remembered Diane accusing me of creating trouble.<\/p>\n
I remembered the moment he ended the call.<\/p>\n
Then I remembered reaching toward the door.<\/p>\n
The ivory envelope falling from the table.<\/p>\n
My name written across its surface.<\/p>\n
The unfamiliar law firm's lettering.<\/p>\n
At the time, I had no idea what it meant.<\/p>\n
I couldn't have imagined that its contents were connected to my entire family history.<\/p>\n
I couldn't have imagined that Warren Sterling was searching for me.<\/p>\n
I couldn't have imagined that the man my husband feared disappointing would arrive at our house and kneel beside me.<\/p>\n
But he had.<\/p>\n
He had come through the rain.<\/p>\n
He had held my hand.<\/p>\n
He had stayed while the medical team worked.<\/p>\n
He had waited through my surgery.<\/p>\n
He had been there when I woke.<\/p>\n
And he had held my newborn son.<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
"Warren?"<\/p>\n
He turned.<\/p>\n
"Yes?"<\/p>\n
I smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
"I'm glad you found me."<\/p>\n
His expression changed.<\/p>\n
For a moment, he didn't speak.<\/p>\n
Then his eyes filled.<\/p>\n
"So am I."<\/p>\n
I looked down at Wesley.<\/p>\n
He was beginning to fall asleep again.<\/p>\n
His little hand relaxed against mine.<\/p>\n
I thought about what Warren said on the night we met.<\/p>\n
That I wouldn't have to face everything alone anymore.<\/p>\n
At the time, I hadn't known whether to believe him.<\/p>\n
I had just been abandoned by the person who promised to stand beside me.<\/p>\n
I had been frightened.<\/p>\n
In pain.<\/p>\n
Desperate for help.<\/p>\n
But Warren had given me something Vance hadn't.<\/p>\n
He stayed.<\/p>\n
And he kept staying.<\/p>\n
Not only during the emergency.<\/p>\n
Through the hospital visits.<\/p>\n
The legal investigation.<\/p>\n
The divorce.<\/p>\n
The long days when Wesley needed care.<\/p>\n
The ordinary evenings when I was exhausted.<\/p>\n
The quiet moments when I wanted to hear another story about Catherine.<\/p>\n
I looked toward the lights across Lake Washington.<\/p>\n
For thirty-two years, I had believed my biological father had abandoned me.<\/p>\n
Now I understood he had been kept from knowing the truth.<\/p>\n
I couldn't recover the years we lost.<\/p>\n
I couldn't bring Catherine or Aunt Ruth back.<\/p>\n
I couldn't change what Vance had done.<\/p>\n
But I could choose what happened next.<\/p>\n
I could raise Wesley with honesty.<\/p>\n
I could allow Warren to become part of our lives.<\/p>\n
I could build a home where love wasn't something a person had to beg for.<\/p>\n
And I could stop measuring my worth by the people who chose not to stay.<\/p>\n
Warren reached toward Wesley.<\/p>\n
The baby shifted slightly.<\/p>\n
Then settled against his grandfather's hand.<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
Three generations.<\/p>\n
Together.<\/p>\n
Not in the way Catherine would have imagined.<\/p>\n
Not in the way I had planned when I married Vance.<\/p>\n
But together.<\/p>\n
I had once thought family meant the people whose names were connected to mine.<\/p>\n
The people I was expected to please.<\/p>\n
The people I was supposed to forgive, no matter how often they hurt me.<\/p>\n
Now I understood something different.<\/p>\n
Family was also the person who came through the rain when I couldn't stand.<\/p>\n
The person who held my hand when I was frightened.<\/p>\n
The person who assembled a crib even when the instructions made no sense.<\/p>\n
The person who learned how to hold a newborn carefully.<\/p>\n
The person who stayed.<\/p>\n
I looked at Warren.<\/p>\n
Then at Wesley.<\/p>\n
The lake lights reflected softly in the windows behind us.<\/p>\n
For the first time in a long while, I wasn't waiting for someone to come home.<\/p>\n
I was already there.<\/p>\n
And I knew we were loved.<\/p>\n