Emily's fingers tightened around mine, her voice soft but laced with a newfound determination. "Then… we'll take Mom to meet him together."
The words carried a quiet strength, a resolve that made my chest tighten with something deeper than pride—something raw, something real. She wasn't just agreeing; she was choosing this path, choosing me.
I nodded, my thumb brushing over her knuckles in silent promise. "Together."
She hesitated, her breath hitching as she searched my face in the dim glow of the moonlight.
Then, with a deep inhale, she asked, "Can you tell me about yourself, Dexter?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of her question hung between us like an unspoken vow. "I mean… everything. I want to know everything about you."
I exhaled slowly, knowing this was the moment to lay it all bare—no more shadows, no more half-truths. So I did. I told her everything.
