"Billy said his mom might get him an Alexander Hamilton costume," Sam said. He hadn't stopped talking the entire way back from the parade, and they were already halfway home before he adjusted his seatbelt and looked around as if he'd only just noticed something was amiss.

"Where's Violet?" he asked, and Wade was careful to focus on the road.

"She had a few things to do. She might not be home for a while."

"Oh. That's too bad. Did she get to see the parade?"

"Yeah, of course. She said you did really great." Wade turned the dial on the radio, cranking up the musical that was now blaring out of his own smartphone and hoping against hope that it would distract the little boy long enough for Wade to get his story straight.

After they arrived home and Sam had changed--very reluctantly--out of his costume, Wade joined him in his bedroom and took out his lunch pail full of tin soldiers.

Sam raced toward the box, claiming a few of his favorites, and for a while they played together, all while Wade listened for the sound of his phone ringing or the door opening. Anything that would let him know Violet had thought things through and realized she'd been wrong.

"Uncle Wade, you've got to put your guy in the box. He's dead." Sam poked his shoulder and Wade focused back in on the present.

"You didn't kill me," Wade said.

"No, but I just said there was a smallpox outbreak, so statistically speaking, a few of your guys have to go. Look, mine are gone too." He pointed to a pile of discarded soldiers and Wade smiled before following the little boy's lead.

"You know what, Sam? Did you ever wonder what it would be like to see where all this stuff happened?"

"What do you mean?" Sam galloped his tin horse across the carpet.

"I mean, you could go to Independence Hall and see where they signed the declaration. Wouldn't you like that?"

He tilted his head to the side. "I think so. But I saw on TV that they don't let you ring the liberty bell, and I'm pretty sure Violet would want to ring it."

"Well." Wade thought hard. He had to come up with something, anything, that didn't involve Violet, but after so much time together, he wasn't sure Sam could fathom a world without her. And frankly, the idea of being without her made his heart sink a little, too. "What if it was just you and me?"

"That would be okay. Could we try to send Violet a picture, though? And would we go to the Statue of Liberty? Because Violet said we could go one day and she and I would climb to the top and look out Lady Liberty's eyeballs."

"That sounds like fun," Wade said, but before he had the chance to say another word, Sam went on.

"Violet has an aunt who lives in New York. She said we could go see her sometime and see Time Square, too. She said there's a bunch of really cool museums there, too, though. And in Washington." He laid his tin horse on its side, then explained, "He has a split hoof because of the cold winter ground."

Wade nodded. "It's tough to be a horse. You know, it's even tougher to be a little boy, though. Now come on, time to brush your teeth and hit the hay."

Together, they put away the toys and got ready for bed, but when bedtime stories were read and night lights were on, Wade slipped out of Sam's room and headed back into the silence of the house.

It was odd, knowing that it was only the two of them here, and though he knew he wouldn't find anything, he couldn't help himself from reaching into his pocket and checking his phone for messages from Violet. Should he be worried about her? Should he go try and figure out where she'd gone?

He sank onto the couch and stared around the place. On every surface, there were pictures of Sam. Sam at the zoo, Sam in a school play, Sam swimming in the lake.

The number of teeth in his smile changed and so did the length of his hair, but there was one constant in all of them. The person holding the camera.

Violet was so much a part of this little boy's life. Was it really Wade’s place to swoop in and take that away from him? And if he did...would it ruin his little spirit?

He pictured family dinners after Wade had gotten home from the office, the two of them sitting at the small table in the middle of his kitchen. Would Sam have a nanny who would sit with him and do his homework? Would he be able to make friends in his new school?

Or would it feel dim and lonely with only his uncle to look after him? Would every day be another reminder that his mother and father weren't there? That Violet was gone?

Waded stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, uncapping it swiftly before taking a long gulp.

No matter what, his life was going to change. He was responsible for another human being's health and happiness.

And the more he thought about it, the more that happiness seemed to depend upon Violet being there.

As far as his own happiness...

An image of Violet smiling, humming softly to herself as she stirred something on the stove came to mind. And then, more vividly, Violet lying beside him in his bed, kissing him goodnight.

Those things counted more than every restaurant and convenience a city could afford him. To be with someone so good, who cared for his nephew so much...

What was city life compared with that?

Silently, he crept up the stairs, then sat on the edge of Sam's bed and shook him awake.

"Hey buddy," he said.

The little boy blinked, and then asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just need your help with something. You think you can help me come up with some ideas?"

* * *

All night she'd imagined herself dressed entirely in black and sneaking in through her bedroom window. Now, sitting in front of the house, she was one hundred percent certain that plan would have worked.

So what if it might have woken everyone up or if she could have fallen off the ladder and died? Wouldn't that be better than marching in the house now in broad daylight, her tail between her legs, as she packed up her bags to leave?

In all the time she'd spent in her best friend's guest room last night, she still hadn't figured out what to say to Sam, let alone to Wade. For the life of her, she couldn't picture anything but the look on that little boy's face as he watched another person packing up and leaving him.

But she wouldn't be doing that, Wade or no Wade.

No, she was going to get herself a job in Philadelphia and figure out some way to get an apartment. It would be hard, but even if she had to room with four other women in some slum, she was not going to let that little boy think another adult had given up on him. Not when she could help it.

With a deep breath, she gripped the steering wheel tighter and stared at the house, willing herself to get out of the car, but every time she moved even a fraction of an inch, the image of Wade's face flashed through her mind. She didn't want to see him. The whole way here, she'd hoped against hope that, when she pulled up in the driveway, his car would be gone.

And what would he do when he saw her? Would he try to stop her? Try to convince her to have some kind of fling with him until the day he up and took her life away?

She bit her bottom lip, imagining the pleading, gentle look in his eyes. If he did that, she wouldn't be able to say no to him--try as she might, she still had convinced her heart that spending every second with him that she could would be worth the eventual heartbreak he'd carried into town with him.

That one more night wouldn't make the sting of his departure that much keener.

"Be strong," she eyed herself in the rearview mirror. "You've got this. Just...just breathe."

And she did. Slow and surely, she breathed through her nose and out her mouth as she forced herself from the driver's seat and made her way to the front door. For a moment, she considered knocking, but then she'd run the risk of seeing Sam's face as he answered the door. Or worse, Wade's face.

She turned the knob pushed the door open, and it promptly thunked into something big and purple that had been set in front of it. Swiveling around, she glanced down to see what she'd hit and sucked in a sharp breath when she caught sight of her own suitcase.

She reached toward it, pulled it out of the way, and then took another deep, calming breath when she realized it was full.

"What the--?" She said, but before she finished, she swung the door closed behind her and took a few more steps inside the house. Glancing into the dining room, she found Sam perched at the table, his headlight shining on something he was writing with his fiercest concentration.

"What are you doing?" She asked, and when he looked up, it was with an expression of complete shock.

"Violet!" He said, then, studying his project he added, "I'm not doing anything."

"I find that hard to believe. Give it here." She held her hand out for the paper, but he snatched it off the table and bolted straight past her, toward the stairs. With thunderous little steps, he soared to the second story, all the while shouting for his uncle.

"Shit," she mumbled. Wade was the last person she needed to see right now.

Though, she supposed, he was probably expecting her to thank him for saving her the trouble of packing all her belongings.

After all, he sure hadn't wasted any time making sure she got out of their lives just as quickly as possible. But then, if everything was already packed, what was the use of still being here? There wasn't any.

She moved into the foyer, grabbed the handle of her bag and rolled it toward the door, taking every step faster than the last. If she was lucky, she could get everything in her friend's trunk and sail away before Wade ever knew she was there. Who knew, maybe if she didn't see him, it would somehow manage to hurt less?

She opened the trunk and shoved the suitcase in without ceremony, but just as she clicked the hatchback shut, she heard a low, deep voice calling her name.

"Violet!" He called, and she forced herself not to look at him, focusing instead on getting to the door. With shaking hands, she pulled the keys from her pocketbook, but they jingled so insistently in her grip that she couldn't manage to find the right key.

"Dammit." She tried to steady her hands, but it was too late. She could already smell his cool, crisp scent in the air. Could see his mane of dark, thick hair from the corner of her eye.

"Violet, don't go. I need to talk to you."

"No," she said, and though she knew she shouldn't have done it, she looked up from her keys and met the full force of his gaze. It was a mistake. Even now, his pleading eyes melted her heart and made every muscle in her body feel loose and weak. "You, you don't get to talk to me."

She held the keys more tightly in her hand, allowing the cold steel to cut into her flesh.

"Please, I just need to--"

"Nope. Nope. I don't care what you need. But, you know what? I do need something from you. I need your address in Philadelphia, please. And I need to know where exactly you plan on sending Sam for school, because you might think you're the guardian and you call the shots, but I'll be damned if you take that little boy from me." Rage was mounting in her now, rolling up her spine and threatening to erupt like a volcano. "I'm moving to Philadelphia and I'm going to be a part of his life come hell or high water. I'll take you to court if I have to, but you will never--"

"No," He said the word so simply that she had to grip her key tighter just to keep control over herself.

"What do you mean no? You can't say no. You don't get to--"

"But I did. I said no. You're not going to Philadelphia."

"Look, buddy." She jabbed him with one finger. "You don't get to boss me around. I'm going to Philadelphia for Sam, not for you. Actually, you know what? I should probably thank you for helping me pack. That saved me a lot of time. So, you know, thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded.

Nodded. Like she wasn't being sarcastic.

"What do you mean thank you? Jesus, I must have been crazy to sleep with a guy like you. You didn't even wait for the sheets to get cold before you packed up my stuff. You're--"

"Before you say what I am, do you think it would be okay if I got to talk for a little while?" He raised his eyebrows.

"No. No you cannot talk. You--"

"Violet! Uncle Wade!" Sam's voice sounded across the yard and Violet turned to find him standing in the doorway of the house, a huge piece of white paper in his hand.

"We're coming, buddy," Wade said.

"I..." Violet tried to find the words, but she was trapped. Cornered.

"Well, hurry up. I'm waiting." Sam called, and then closed the door with a snap.

"Well, we can't keep him waiting. That would be rude." Wade said.

He held out his hand for her, and she grimaced at it and walked past him, eager to get to the door and back out it as quickly as humanly possible. When she opened the door, though, it was to find two more suitcases at the bottom of the stairs--the one Wade had brought with him his first night in the house, and Sam's tiny Avengers case. Throughout the house, her favorite song from Hamilton was playing, and when she took a few more steps, it was to find Sam standing in the living room, staring at her expectantly.

"Well, sit down." Sam said.

"I...um, okay." She smoothed her skirt as she took a seat. "But look, Sam, I'm busy today, so I can't stay for very long."

"Okay."

"Don't worry, it'll be quick." Wade said from the archway into the living room. "Won't it, Sam?"

Sam nodded, then rushed to his uncle to give him the paper he'd refused to let Violet see.

"Look, Sam and I wanted to tell you that last night, when you weren't here, we didn't feel like a family anymore. It was lonely without you. I was lonely without you."

She pursed her lips. "Look, Wade, it's not fair to get Sam involved. This is between us and--"

"And, after Sam had gone to bed, I realized that there was nothing waiting for me in Philadelphia because you wouldn't be there with me." Slowly, he pulled a pair of tickets from his pocket, and then handed them to her.

Reluctantly, she glanced down at them to find that it was not, in fact, a pair of tickets, but three tickets. One for Sam. One for Wade. One for her.

"I'm going to Philadelphia this weekend to pack up my apartment. I was hoping you'd come with me so that the three of us can go to the museums and see the sights together."

"I...Wade..." Words were lost to her. What could she say? That it was sudden? That it was impossible? That she'd never wanted anything more in her entire life?

"Look, Sam and I know we're asking a lot from you here, but we want you to know that what you said yesterday--you were right. And to make up for it, we came up with a list--"

"A Declaration" Sam chimed in.

"Exactly. Sam drew it up for you especially." He held the paper out to her, and she read the misspelled crayon words as best she could, but by the time she'd gotten to the second bullet point, she held the paper out to the little boy. "Sam, care to read it for us?"

He didn't have to be asked twice. In a matter of seconds, he'd swept over to her.

"We the Farrows and Morgans, being of sound minds and bodies, to hereby declare that we love Violet Dunn and are willing to promise her the following" He cleared his throat, but then Wade took the paper from him.

"I'll take it from here, buddy." He smiled at Sam. "We declare that we will always love you, and that we will never take your love for granted. We declare that we will protect you from zombies, clowns, and all other related Halloween horrors. We declare that we will try to love Sapphire Falls just as much as you do, and that we will take part in town activities whenever you wish. And, most importantly, we declare that you are the best person we've ever known and we will work every day to be worthy of you."

She didn't know she was crying until she heard herself let out a soft little gasp. Quickly, she moved to shield her eyes from them, but then a pair of small arms were wrapping themselves around her shoulder.

"We love you, Violet," Sam said.

Then, looking up at Wade, she said, "I love you both too."

Wade smiled down at her, and, for the first time, she knew that all of them were home. That they were a family. At last.

The End.