Eli nodded, processing. "Can I still love him?"
"You can love him," Ava said. "Loving him does not erase what happened. It just means you're bigger than one afternoon in a church."
That night Daniel called for their regular check-in. Eli told him he had seen the video. Daniel went silent, then said, "I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Eli, with the blunt grace of twelve, said, "Mom says people can get better. Are you better?" Daniel answered, voice rough: "I'm better than I was. I'm still working." Eli seemed to find that acceptable. Children often do, when adults stop pretending perfection and start offering process.
Madison heard about Eli finding the video from Lauren, who had heard it from a friend of Ava's in the way news still traveled among people who had once shared a disaster. Madison sat with the knowledge for a day. Then she wrote Ava an email, short, unadorned.
Ava —
I heard Eli found the footage. If he ever wants to know, from me, that I do not hate him for existing — that I never did — you can tell him. Or he can write me. Or not. I am not seeking a role in his life. I am only refusing to let him inherit a villain story that was never his.
I hope you're well.
— Madison