Chapter 4: The Morning Light**
Morning broke over the suburbs, casting bright, warm light through the kitchen windows. Peter had barely slept, spending most of the night sitting in the hallway armchair, keeping watch over the guest room door after the CPS caseworker had come and gone in the early hours.
He was flipping pancakes on the griddle when he heard the soft padding of bare feet. Drew stood in the doorway, wearing one of Peter’s old oversized t-shirts. His bandaged knee made him stand a little lopsided, but he looked rested.
"Morning, buddy," Peter smiled, keeping his voice light. "How's the leg?"
"Better," Drew said quietly. He looked around, his eyes darting toward the front door. The hyper-vigilance was heartbreaking. "Is she here?"
"No," Peter said firmly, setting down his spatula and kneeling to be at eye level with the boy. "She's not here. And she's not coming here. You are safe."
Just then, Lily shuffled into the kitchen. She looked like a ghost in the oversized shirt, clutching the fleece blanket from the night before. She walked straight past Drew and buried her face in Peter's leg, wrapping her small arms around his knee.
Peter gently stroked her messy blonde hair. "Pancakes are almost ready, Lily-bug."
Lily peered up at him, her wide blue eyes blinking against the morning light. For a long moment, the kitchen was completely silent. Then, she opened her mouth.
"With syrup?" she whispered. It was the first time she had spoken since arriving.
Peter felt a lump form in his throat. He smiled warmly. "With as much syrup as you want."
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As they sat at the table, eating in a comfortable, quiet peace, Peter knew the storm was coming. But watching Drew carefully cut his sister's pancakes for her, he knew without a doubt that it was a storm worth weathering.
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