Chapter 9 - The Reckoning
I read the article sitting in the kitchen of our new home.
With the money from the sale of our old house and the settled assets, I had bought a small, beautiful farmhouse on five acres of land in Granville, a quiet, historic town east of Columbus. The house had a wrap-around porch, a big yard for Buster to run in, and a separate, sunny studio where I could work on my writing.
The article didn't hurt me. The comments on the news site—once filled with neighborhood gossip—now painted Daniel as the monster he had always been. The truth had finally come to light, clean and cold, washing away the lies he had used to paint me as the crazy one.
I walked out to the backyard.
Leo was out there, wearing his heavy winter coat, throwing a stick for Buster. The dog’s golden fur was bright against the white snow covering the lawn. Leo’s laughter echoed through the quiet trees—a sound that was no longer tentative, no longer quieted by the fear of a father’s heavy footsteps.
Michael was there too, split-rail fencing in hand, helping me build a secure perimeter for the property. He stopped his work, leaning on his post-hole digger, and watched me walk down the porch steps.
"You look good, Clara," Michael said, a warm smile spreading across his face.
May you like
"I feel good, Michael," I said, looking at our new home. "I feel like myself again."
"You always were yourself," Michael said gently. "You just had to get out from under his shadow to see it."
