Page 115 of Protected By the Sinner

She’s obsessed with her dad, and honestly, I get it. Who could resist his grumpy charm?

He kneels to pick her up, and her giggles sound like music to me.

“Pink ball, Daddy!”

Beau looks at me and smiles—one of those rare ones he gives only to the two of us. “So many pink balls,” he says, winking at me.

The nanny walks in and says it’s bath time. After the usual protests, our daughter lets herself be led away.

“I read it’s just a phase. As they get older, girls’ favorite colors tend to change.”

He lifts me into his arms and sits down with me cradled in his lap. “I don’t mind. We could paint the whole house pink if it means she’ll keep smiling like that,” he says.

“I don’t care about the color of the ornaments either. I just want the tree. Not what’s on it, but what it stands for.”

“And what does it stand for, my Amber?”

“The three of us. Together.”

“Four,”he corrects, placing a hand on my five-month belly.

“Sorry, baby,” I say to Lucien. “Thefourof us. Together. These memories that no one can take from us. They’ll never be forgotten. They’ll be the foundation offamilyfor our children, something neither of us ever had. Living proof of our love.”

Epilogue 2

Two Years Later

She still doesn’t tell me her dreams.

Even after all these years together, she can’t bring herself to voice her desires, and that only makes me more obsessed with fulfilling them.

Unraveling every layer of Amber is like learning drop by drop: I catch the clues she doesn’t realize she’s giving, the things she doesn’t say aloud but that I see reflected in those beautiful eyes when they light up at something.

This week, I gave her a special gift.

I carry a heavy burden of sin, and there’s nothing I can do that will ever erase it. I was never a hero, and no redemption is possible for me. I’ve stopped clinging to the illusion of a heavenly afterlife, so I’ve decided to live my heaven here onEarth, with her and our two children . . . and hopefully many more to come.

I bought the land where the cult’s ranch used to be and had it turned into a park filled with free activities for children and teens. Maybe that way we can erase some of the evil the elders spread across this country.

I named it Estrella Park—with two L’s—in honor of her mother.

And I made them plant an entire field of daisies for my Amber, because they’re her favorite flower.

Arguing with the landscaper who tried to convince me it would be too monotonous was worth it. When I saw Amber’s smile the day I took her there, I knew I’d gotten it exactly right.

“Where are we going?” my wife asks, a little anxious as she gets into the car where I’ve been waiting in front of our house.

“It’s a surprise.”

“It’s been so long since we went out at night.”

“Exactly. I missed it.”

“Yeah, right. Last time we were at Hazard in New Orleans, you nearly killed two or three guys just for looking at me.”

“And you didn’t even mind.”

“Why would I? I’m yours, LeBlanc.”