The officer gently handed Andrew back to me.
My little boy curled into my shoulder, as if nothing had happened.
Safe.
Alive.
Here.
I closed my eyes for a second, holding him tighter than I ever had before.
“No charges will be filed,” the officer continued. “We’re not involving child services.”
I exhaled, a shaky breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“But I wanted to come here myself,” he added, “because sometimes, people deserve to be seen for who they are—not just who they’ve been.”
He looked at Logan.
“Today, you did the right thing.”
Logan didn’t respond.
But I saw it—the flicker of relief in his eyes.
After the officer left, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
