Page 297 of Let Me In

Daddy is home.

He lifts me into his arms again once we’re dry, the way he always does.

I melt into him without hesitation, arms looped loosely around his neck, head tucked beneath his jaw. He carries me down the hall, into the bedroom, and the light through the curtains is gold and soft, like the whole cabin knows what this means.

Peace, at last.

He pulls back the quilt and settles onto the bed with me curled against his chest, skin to skin. The sheets are cool, but his body is warm—solid, and strong. His skin hums with quiet strength, and every breath he draws seems to slow the world around us.

And I try.

I try to let go.

To rest.

But something in me doesn’t quite release.

I feel his breath at the top of my head.

“Tell me, baby.”

His voice is quiet. Low. A brush of gravel against my temple.

I stiffen. Just for a second.

He feels it.

“It’s still sitting with you, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

Not a question.

Just a knowing.

I nod. Barely. Just enough that he feels it.

“I meant every word I said, Emmy.”

His voice is quiet and sure. Holding everything in place.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You were scared. And you ran because you love. That tells me more about your heart than anything else could.”

A tear slips from the corner of my eye and soaks into his chest.

“But,” he adds, voice still warm, “I see it. That it’s still hurting.”

He lifts his hand, cups the side of my face again.

“There’ll be a consequence, little one. Just like I said. Not because I’m angry. Not because you failed. Just… to remind you.”

His thumb brushes over my temple.

“That you’re safe now. That you’re mine. And that I’ll always come home to you.”

I nod again.

This time with my whole body.

I believe him.

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