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“Jesus, Pen. You’ll give everyone a heart attack.” I place a hand over my chest. “What’s up?”

“Can Blair and I go outside and make snow angels?” She gives me the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’ve ever seen.

Blair stands behind her, smirking like she didn’t put her up to this.

“Yes, but go get your winter coat. It’s fuc—” I catch myself. “It’s freezing.”

“Santa almost didn’t come, Daddy.” Aspen rolls her eyes before grabbing Blair’s hand and dragging her toward the hallway.

“Pen, don’t forget your mom is coming at lunchtime,” I call after her. “You’re opening Christmas presents together.”

“Okay!” Aspen shouts before running toward the back door. “Come on, Blair. Hurry! The snow is going to melt.”

“It’s the middle of winter, babe. I promise it’ll still be there in thirty seconds.” Blair laughs as she follows her outside.

I turn toward Jerry and find him watching them through the window, smiling to himself.

“You’ve got your hands full with that one,” he says.

“Which one?”

Jerry chuckles. “Both.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” I pick up the pancake batter again. “But yes, they’re both insane.”

Outside, Aspen drops backward into the snow, flailing her arms and legs while Blair stands over her laughing. A second later, Pen grabs Blair’s hand and pulls hard enough that Blair loses her balance and disappears into the snow beside her.

Jerry laughs under his breath before his expression grows serious.

“She looks happy.”

I glance at him. “She is.”

“I worried about her for a long time,” he admits, keeping his eyes fixed on the window. “Even after Ben went away. Even after she changed her name. She was surviving, but she wasn’t really living.”

Something in his voice makes me set the spatula down.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her stop waiting for something bad to happen,” he continues.

I look outside again. Blair is lying flat on her back now, Aspen beside her, both of them staring up at the sky.

My chest aches.

“I was supposed to keep her safe,” I murmur.

Jerry’s expression changes. “Dean—”

“He got into her house.” The words come out harder than I intend. “He got to her in her fucking house.”

“And she still calls this town home,” Jerry says quietly. “Not once did I hear her refer to New York that way.”

I turn toward him.

“You didn’t fail her, Dean.”

It feels like I fucking did.

Jerry seems to read the thought on my face because he leans back against the island and folds his arms.