Chapter 10 - Reckoning
Z
With Rachel in prison and Brenda completely out of our lives, peace finally returned to my home. But peace didn't mean ignoring the hard work of healing.
I used a portion of my elevated income from Sterling & Croft to move into a spacious five-bedroom house in a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood near an excellent public school. I brought Mrs. Collins with us as a cherished neighbor, helping her move into the cozy guest cottage on our new property so she would never have to worry about living alone again.
Leo, Sophia, Ethan, and Chloe adjusted remarkably well to their new routine. With structure, love, and consistency, the anxiety that had plagued them for years began to melt away. Leo excelled in his middle school science club, while the younger kids thrived in music and soccer programs. Noah and Maya adored having their cousins living under the same roof, turning our house into a place filled with laughter, shared dinners, and real warmth.
One Saturday evening, after all six children were settled in the living room watching a movie with bowls of popcorn, I sat on the back patio with a hot mug of tea.
The garden was quiet, illuminated by the warm glow of string lights hanging from the pergola.
My phone buzzed on the wooden table. I picked it up to see an email notification from the State Department of Corrections. It was a automated notification regarding prisoner communications. Rachel had submitted a request to add my phone number to her approved calling list from prison.
I stared at the screen for a long moment.
Six months ago, I might have felt a pang of guilt, a wave of anger, or an overwhelming urge to send a bitter reply. But now, sitting in the quiet security of the life I had built with my own hands, I felt nothing but a calm, unshakeable neutrality.
May you like
I slowly tapped the screen, selected the option to decline the communication request, and permanently opted out of future prison contact updates.
Some doors, once closed and locked, are meant to stay closed forever.
