Months passed.

The trial nearly broke us.

Then one bright morning, my phone rang.

“It’s Dr. Samson, Hanna. The latest results are all clear. Joshua is in remission.”

I dropped to my knees.

Now, two years later, our house is chaos—backpacks, soccer cleats, crayons everywhere.

Joshua tells the boys I’m the bravest one in the family.

I always answer the same way: “Being brave isn’t staying quiet. It’s telling the truth before it’s too late.”

For a long time, I thought Joshua wanted to give me a family so I wouldn’t be alone.