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back in time four years, to when Ben had been lowered into the ground.
    Dozens of beautiful flowers had been on his casket, and even more had been placed on top of the freshly packed dirt. Now whenever we visited his grave with fresh flowers—­and Keith demanded we bring new flowers every time—­all I could think about was that day.
    It felt like I’d never get away from it.
    Like I’d never get away from the heartbreak and pain I’d gone through before and after he’d died, and then the years of secrets I’d gone through after.

 
    Chapter Two
    Charlie
    May 25, 2016
    â€œ H AMMER SMASH! ”
    There are those moments when you know something is about to happen; something you should try to prevent. But that feeling is mixed with confusion as you’re slowly pulled from your dreams by the yell of your toddler, and it takes a second too long for your muscles to react. And then in a fraction of a second, you’re yanked into awareness, and your world is filled with the bright lights of your room . . . and pain.
    My eyes cracked open, and I only had a fraction of a second to understand why my son was flying through the air, and to tense my body, before Keith slammed down onto my stomach. I choked out a cough and rolled, sending him sprawling onto the bed.
    â€œHammer smash! Hammer smash!” he shouted, and jumped for another round of jump-­on-­Mommy.
    Now that I was more alert, I shot my arm out to prevent him from landing on me, and waited until I saw his blue eyes directly in front of my own before I released my hold on his waist.
    â€œMommy, I see you!”
    â€œMorning,” I wheezed out, and rolled onto my back again.
    Keith scrambled up until he was sitting on my stomach, and beamed down at me.
    Despite the lingering pain in my stomach, my chest swelled with love for the little monster sitting on me. I ran a hand through his dark hair, and asked, “Who are you today?”
    His face fell. “Mommy! Hammer!”
    I feigned confusion. “Who has a hammer?”
    â€œI do!”
    â€œAnd who are you?”
    â€œ For , Mommy.” His tone dripped with disappointment that I hadn’t guessed.
    â€œOh . . .” I drew out the word, and nodded slowly. “I thought I might have seen a little Hulk in you this morning, with the ‘smash’ and all, but I was wrong. You are very clearly Thor.”
    He sighed. “Mommy . . . Hulk smashes wiff his hands. For smashes wiff his hammer.”
    I bit back my smile and tapped his nose. “ Hits . Thor hits with his hammer. He also throws it.”
    Keith took a second to take in my words, and then his eyes lit up. “Hammer frow!” he yelled, but just before he could throw an imaginary hammer at me, I threw my arm up in front of me.
    â€œCaptain America shield!”
    Keith’s hand hit my arm, and grabbed tight. “Mommy!” he whispered in awe, then released my arm to pat it. “Dood shield.”
    I pulled him close to kiss his forehead, then asked, “What time is it?”
    He shrugged against me. “I dunno. But Uncle J is tryin’ to make breakfast.”
    After months away with only weekends to see him, I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up for a few minutes with my son as I had the past mornings; but dangerous, dangerous words had just left his little lips.
    Jagger messed up cereal. He’d burn the warehouse down if he actually attempted to cook something.
    â€œIs he?” My voice rose in alarm as I hurried to move Thor off my stomach. “Well, I think we should go put a stop to that before we no longer have somewhere to live.”
    Keith froze, and looked up at me with wide eyes once I was standing. “We can’t live here anymore?”
    I bit back a curse, and bent so I was at eye level with him. “Of course we can. But Uncle J shouldn’t be cooking. Go stop him before . . . just go stop