Moira's POV

Sally returns the next evening, carrying another silver tray but moving differently than before. Her shoulders aren't quite as hunched, her steps less fearful. The visible bruises I healed are completely gone, leaving unmarked skin where violence used to live.

She sets the tray down and glances toward the door before speaking in a careful whisper.

"The little boy is okay." The relief in her voice is immediate and genuine. "Connor. ...