Chapter 10 - A NEW DAWN
It is 2026 now.
I sit on the porch of our home, a steaming mug of tea in my hands, watching the morning fog roll over the Austin hills. The air is crisp, the world is quiet, and my heart is completely full.
Noah is away at MIT, a full year ahead of his peers, thriving in an environment that finally matches his pace. He calls twice a week, talks rapid-fire about artificial intelligence and ethical hacking, and always asks about David and our golden retriever, Barnaby.
Ethan is still in a concrete cell. I don't think about him anymore. The space he used to occupy in my mind—the fear, the resentment, the anger—has been entirely overwritten by peace. He tried to write a letter to Noah last year, a pathetic attempt to ask for forgiveness in exchange for an early parole hearing recommendation.
Noah didn't even open it. He just dropped it into the paper shredder, walked into the kitchen, and asked what was for dinner. That was the moment I knew, with absolute certainty, that Ethan's poison hadn't infected him. My son was whole.
I take a sip of my tea, feeling the warmth spread through my chest.
David steps out onto the porch, wrapping a thick wool blanket around my shoulders and pressing a kiss into my hair. "You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.
"Just thinking," I say, leaning back against him.
"Good thoughts?"
May you like
I look out at the sunrise, the brilliant streaks of pink and gold tearing through the gray sky, a promise of a new day, bright and unblemished. I think about the ivory envelope covered in gold lettering. I think about the cruelty that was meant to break me, and how, instead, it became the key that unlocked our freedom.
"The best thoughts," I reply, smiling into the morning light. "Everything is exactly where it's supposed to be."
