Chapter 9 - The Beginning
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Two years after the trial, I opened a bookstore.
Small. Cozy. Quiet. The kind of place where people came to escape.
I'd moved to a small town in the mountains. Changed my name. Started over.
No more graves. No more trials. No more looking over my shoulder.
Just books. Coffee. Peace.
I thought about the Hartleys sometimes. About Ethan. About Eleanor. About the life I'd escaped.
I didn't miss any of it.
I'd found something better. Something real.
A life of my own choosing.
A life without fear.
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One day, a woman came into the bookstore.
Young. Nervous. Bruises on her arms.
"Can I help you?"
"I need a book. About... about escaping abusive relationships."
I looked at her. At the fear in her eyes. At the hope.
"Come with me."
I led her to the back. Where I kept the special books. The ones about survival. About fighting back.
"What's your name?"
"Sarah."
"Sarah, let me tell you something. Something I learned the hard way."
"What?"
"You're stronger than you think. And you're not alone."
She looked at me. Tears in her eyes.
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been where you are. And I survived."
I handed her a book. The one that had helped me. The one that had taught me to fight.
"Read this. Then come back. We'll talk."
She nodded. Left.
I watched her go. Hoping she'd return.
Hoping she'd survive.
Hoping she'd win.
Like I did.
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THE END
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