Chapter 16
Six months later, Noah asked to help fold towels.
Of all things.
In the laundry room.
I said yes.
The dryer remained unplugged.
Not because I planned it symbolically.
Because repairs were still pending.
Noah loaded two towels into the washer, got bored immediately, and started building a fort out of clean blankets.
Tyler visited later and joined him.
For twenty minutes, the room that once held fear contained two boys arguing about whether a blanket roof needed windows.
No hierarchy.
No tokens.
No punishment.
No adult deciding who deserved dinner.
I stood in the hallway and watched.
Then deliberately walked away.
May you like
They did not need me hovering forever.
Safety also means trusting that ordinary rooms can become ordinary again.
