Jane Morrison, the nanny hired by his mother-in-law a month earlier, was on all fours, and his three sons were playing on her back, their faces lit with joy. Mick held a rope around her neck like reins, and Jane neighed like a horse, laughing with them as if the world had disappeared.

Benjamin stood frozen. His sons, the ones who woke screaming, barely able to speak, asking every day when Mommy would come back… were playing, truly playing. And not with him. With her.

A woman he barely knew. She had done what he had never been able to do: bring joy back into their home. And suddenly, the anger of his day melted away, replaced by deep wonder.

They played on her back, giggling as if the entire world had vanished. Benjamin remained paralyzed, unable to breathe. His sons, those who woke screaming, those who had closed themselves off in grief, were playing… and laughing with her. Jane had done what he had not been able to do: bring life back into this house.