Chapter 19 - A Quiet Evening
That winter, the three of us sat around the fireplace in our new home.
The snow was falling heavily outside, blanketing Spokane in a peaceful white silence.
I was reviewing some investment portfolios on my iPad, Claire was knitting, and Maya was reading a textbook for her upcoming freshman year.
It was mundane.
It was boring.
It was absolutely perfect.
I thought back to that horrible day in the hallway.
The desperate gasping for air, the shattered tape dispenser, my father’s cold, annoyed eyes.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Like it had happened to a different person.
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The trauma would always be a part of me, woven into my skin in the form of a surgical scar, but it no longer defined me.
The villains of my story had been defeated not by some dramatic act of violence, but by my refusal to let them drag me down to their level.
