Page 180 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

“He’s right,” I continue, voice steadier now. “He’s still here. In the way we love each other. In the family we’re building. In his son.”

Ally’s eyes meet mine, wet with tears but bright with something that looks like peace. “His son,” she repeats, wonder in her voice. “Our son.”

“Our son,” I agree, the truth of it settling into my bones.

We sit in silence as dawn breaks fully outside our windows, painting the room in golden light that feels like benediction. Like Hank’s approval washing over us as we find our way forward without him.

The grief doesn’t disappear. It never will. But beside it now grows something else—a future taking shape from the ashes of what we’ve lost. A family built from love that transcends death, that continues in the child growing beneath my palm.

Hank’s final mission for me—carry her home for me—is one I’ll spend the rest of my life fulfilling. Not because he asked, but because it’s who we are now. Who we’ve always been. Three souls so intertwined that even death couldn’t fully separate us.

I press a kiss to Ally’s temple, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the solid warmth of her against me. In this moment, I make a silent promise to Hank, to Ally, to the son we’ll raise together:

We’ll carry each other home. Every day. For all the days we have left.

And somewhere, Hank is watching.

Approving. At peace.

First in, last out, heart wide open.

Just like he taught us.