Chapter 10
Anna came home two weeks later.
Home.
The word trembled between us.
She stood in the foyer where she had once cried at twenty-two, suitcase in hand, Miguel waiting outside in an old car.
“I hated this place,” she said.
“I know.”
“I missed it too.”
“I know.”
Her old room had been preserved by my housekeeper, Mrs. Bell.
Not by me.
I had ordered it closed.
Mrs. Bell had ignored me.
Bless her.
Anna walked in and saw her books.
Her blue curtains.
The chipped ceramic horse she won at a fair.
She began to cry.
Elijah stood beside her.
“This was yours?”
“Yes.”
“Can we stay here?”
Anna looked at me.
I did not speak.
This had to be hers.
“If it feels safe,” she said.
Elijah nodded.
“Does it?”
Anna touched the bedpost.
“I don’t know yet.”
That was honest.
I hired no photographers.
Made no announcements.
I gave her space.
But peace did not last.
Victor’s lawyer claimed Anna fabricated warnings to extort money.
He called her unstable.
Greedy.
Bitter.
The same words powerful men use when truth comes from someone they harmed.
Elijah saw the clip online.
He threw the tablet across the room.
“Mom told the truth!”
I knelt in front of him.
“Yes.”
“Then why do they lie?”
“Because truth costs them.”
He breathed hard.
“Make it cost more.”
May you like
I nodded.
“I will.”
