Jack’s answer wasn’t words so much as a loosening at the corners of his mouth, like something in him had been holding its breath with her. “Okay,” he said softly. “With you.”
They moved back into the hall. The house felt bigger now that she knew there weren’t sharp corners waiting to eat Scarlett alive. It wasn’t a fortress; it was… prepared. Thought-through. Like someone had paced at two in the morning imagining every stupid accident that could happen and then bought four different kinds of latches to outrun fate.
“‘Pack lands,’” Molly said as they passed the bathroom again. “You keep saying that like it’s a normal phrase.”
Jack glanced at her, adjusting Scarlett’s weight in his arms as the baby breathed warm and damp against his shoulder.
“It’s the land we own and live on together.
