The judge declared Lionel guilty.

Outside the courthouse, sitting in the car, Martha held Lex in her arms for a long, long time while he cried himself to exhaustion. She had no words of comfort for him—she couldn't even imagine the pain. She simply held him tight, pulled him back to wipe away his tears every so often, and whispered, from time to time, "I love you, sweetheart . . . I love you so much . . ."

She stopped on the way home to buy him an ice cream cone. She knew he wouldn't be hungry for lunch if she did, but she was far, far past caring about that. His eyes were still a little swollen by the time they reached the house, but his face wasn't as red. He just looked tired.

She made him take a nap. He tried to argue, but she wasn't having it—she followed him up to his room, gently rubbed his back for a few minutes once he was settled in, and told him he could come downstairs in thirty minutes if he couldn't sleep. He didn't come down for three hours.

That night, Jonathan suggested a movie. Clark climbed on the couch between his parents, and Lex headed over to sit in the rocking chair.

Martha took a risk: "Ah, ah."

Lex stood straight up.

Martha scooted over to clear a little space between herself and Clark.

Lex smiled and went to sit between them. He was stiff at first, but began to relax as the night progressed. Clark fell asleep less than a half an hour into the movie, his head resting on his father's side, his hand lightly gripping Lex's arm.

No one moved for awhile after the movie ended. Martha had seen Lex's eyes close, but as the credits ran, they opened and welled with tears once again.

His voice was so soft, she thought for a moment she had only imagined it: "He doesn't love me."

Jonathan shifted Clark so he was lying across his lap, and he wrapped his arm around Lex's shoulder. "That's his loss. Not yours."

"I don't deserve—"

"Stop that." Martha tapped his knee. "Sweetheart, will you let us adopt you?"

"Martha—"

"We've wanted to since day one."

"I killed my brother."

"It was an accident."

"But . . . what if I hurt . . ." His eyes fell on Clark.

"Hey," Jonathan said.

Lex looked up at him.

Jonathan smiled. "He's not easy to hurt, you know."

Lex let his head fall, and Jonathan turned to pull the boy into his arms, so his head rested on his chest, while Martha held him from behind.

Jonathan held Lex at arm's length and looked him right in the eyes, and he spoke more firmly than Martha had ever heard: "There is nothing you can do to make us stop loving you."

The boy nodded and relaxed into his arms again.