#Chapter 201 – Pancakes

A few hours later, wrapped in our coziest robes, Victor and I step out of our room.

As soon as we walk out, I can hear the noise of our boys downstairs, laughing and talking as they have their breakfast.

I clutch my robe tightly around my neck as I hear them and look up at Victor, a huge smile breaking out on my face. God, it’s good to hear them laugh.

Victor returns my look and takes my hand. Then slowly, carefully, we walk down the hall and head down the stairs.

As soon as they hear the creek of our footsteps on the stairs, we hear everyone go silent.

I’m ahead of Victor, so they see my feet first, staying silent. Then, as soon as they see Victor’s slipper appear on the step above mine, we hear a collective gasp.

Victor and I look at each other at that and can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Mama!” Alvin shouts, running to the clutch the banister at the bottom of the stairs.

“Papa!” Ian screeches, right after him, skidding to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and banging into the wall at the bottom. “You’re better!”

They start up the stairs towards us but Victor puts out a hand –

“Wait, wait,” Victor says, his voice soft. “We’re not totally better yet, okay? Go easy on us.”

“Come and take our hands,” I say to them, smiling at my boys at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take my eyes off of them. So precious to me, these two little things.

Grinning at us, Alvin and Ian obediently come gently up the stairs. Alvin takes my hand, helping me balance, my little gentleman. Ian goes up a step beyond me, helping his dad by letting Victor put a hand on his shoulder.

When we get down into the kitchen, I tear my eyes away from my boys to look at Rafe, who is sitting at the table, pale as a ghost.

Burton stands behind him, a spatula in his hand, the pan he was using to cook beginning to smoke lightly on the stove behind him.

says, his eyes moving to the pan. “Burton, would

and running

doesn’t stop

following us as Ian and

Victor and I sit down. I don’t wanting to have this conversation in front of my sons. “Do you

help. “The newspaper,” I say, giving them a big excited grin. “Do you think you could go out into the driveway and see if it

frown at me, Ian opening his mouth to protest, but I pout. “Pleasssseeee, babies?” I say, clutching my

and he and Ian bolt to the front door, slipping on their boots and grabbing their

at me curiously. “Do we…subscribe to the

then looking at Rafe. “But. I don’t want them to know how bad it was,

then he looks at his brother

death’s doorstep. I really didn’t

Burton as he brings us over two glasses of orange

says, huffing out a little laugh and running a hand over his amazed face, as if he might be seeing a mirage. “But,

it,” Victor says, smiling at me tenderly, taking my hand. I feel a tingle

Rafe says, starting to

a little shrug. And really – I’m not trying to be cryptic.

– my memories of going to that place, somewhere in my mind but also somewhere beyond it. Of what it looked like

So, I improvise.

whatever it was that was making him so sick just…broke. Sometime around

us, his mouth hanging open. I can tell that he doesn’t believe me and I give him a little shrug. He doesn’t need to believe

was an experience that defies belief. Any attempt to explain it, really,

icy grip of death just…decided to let go

glass of orange juice to his lips. I watch him drink, thrilled to see it. He hasn’t had anything except water and broth for days. God, it is such a relief to see

feel as if

with a stack of pancakes. “Madame,” he says gently, placing them in front of

say, looking up at him,

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