The Stranger in the Lifeboat

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Land
There were more pages, but LeFleur stopped reading. He stuffed them into
his briefcase and wiped his eyes as he raced from the office.
He drove home trembling. He entered the yellow house and ran up the
stairs. He put his hand on the door-knob of his daughter’s room, and for the
first time in four years, he turned it open. As he stood there, staring at the
small bed and the pink stars he’d painted on the ceiling, Patrice stepped up
behind him and said, “Jarty? What’s going on?”
He turned and grabbed her close. Through heaving breath, he whispered,
“Lilly’s all right. She’s all right. She’s safe.” And Patrice began crying, too.
“I know, sweetheart. I know she is.”
They hugged each other tightly and later would not remember how long
they held that embrace. But they slept that night without waking up once.
And when LeFleur opened his eyes the next morning, he felt something he
had not felt in a very long time. He felt peace.