“Welcome to our home!” he said warmly while taking the gift basket from my hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”
Maureen, his wife, stood by the door. “I’ve heard so much about you from Jack.” She walked toward me and wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug. “So nice to finally meet you and put a face to the name.” She bent down, her white-blonde hair blowing lightly in the wind. “Hello there, and you must be Lucas.”
“Yes, I am. I am seven years old. I am in Grade Two, and I go to Beach Elementary School,” Lucas said proudly as we walked inside.
Dinner was wonderful.
Maureen matched Jack’s personality perfectly. She was friendly, warm, and welcoming. Despite her short stature, the two of them looked adorable together. Their home carried the same softness they did, full of lived-in comfort and the kind of hospitality that made a person feel included without effort.
I learned more about the Bortelini family that evening. They had two daughters and a son. Their eldest daughter was married with two children. Their son was engaged and worked as an accountant in Vancouver. Their youngest daughter was studying psychology at a university in BC.
Eventually, the conversation turned toward me.
They asked questions about my pregnancy, about moving to the village, and about Lucas. I answered honestly whenever I could, though I carefully avoided revealing the deeper truths of my past. I had become skilled at that by now, at giving enough truth to appear open.
By the end of the evening, I thanked them for dinner. Maureen told me to stay in touch, and we exchanged phone numbers before Lucas and I prepared to head home. As I looked at the two of them standing together in their doorway, smiling warmly as we left, an ache moved through me. It felt like longing for the kind of family life that looked so effortless from the outside.
10
JIYA
The weekend arrived. On Saturday, the doorbell rang just as Lucas and I finished breakfast.
“Is this my surprise, Mama?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I don’t know. Let’s check it out,” I said nonchalantly, even though I knew what waited on the other side of the door.
I walked toward the door and opened it.
Lucas let out a scream.
Oreo, who had been standing behind us, was startled and began barking.
“It’s Noah! It’s Noah!” Lucas shouted.
Both the boys jumped together in excitement, their laughter filling the doorway. Seeing them so happy pushed everything else out of my mind—the stress, the loneliness, the uncertainty. It was impossible not to smile when Lucas looked that happy.
“Wow,” Karl exclaimed as he looked me up and down. “You look amazing for six months. I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, sometimes neither can I,” I said with a small laugh as I hugged him.
Even now, some days, the reality of it still surprised me. There were moments when I still caught myself forgetting for half a second, until a movement in my belly or a wave of exhaustion reminded me that my whole life was changing again.
A week after moving to Cowichan Bay, while Lucas was still at camp, I drove down with Oreo to surprise Elle. During that visit, I told her everything—about Jeremy, the kidnapping, Caleb and me being shot, and the photographs his mother had shown me.
Elle gasped in shock, and by the time I finished, she was in tears.
“So much has happened, and you’re telling me all of this now?”
“I couldn’t risk anything happening to you, Donna, or your families because of me,” I said, holding her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I had to stay away.”
She hugged me tightly. “Does Donna know anything?”
“No,” I replied immediately. “And I want to keep it that way. The fewer people who know, the safer everyone will be—especially Caleb. I need this to stay between you and me. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she said softly. “But why?”
“Because I’m pregnant.”
