Chapter 9 - RECLAIMING THE LIGHT
Six months after the trial, spring had fully arrived in Chicago.
The icy winds off Lake Michigan had given way to warm breezes, green trees along Michigan Avenue, and the vibrant bloom of tulips in Grant Park.
I had moved out of Lincoln Park entirely, purchasing a charming, light-filled three-story townhouse in Old Town. The house had floor-to-ceiling windows, high ceilings, and a private rooftop garden where I grew fresh medicinal herbs—lavender, chamomile, mint, and rosemary.
There were no dark glass vials in my home. There were no secrets hidden behind couches.
Bennett & Sons Pharmacy was thriving like never before. With the publicity from the trial, the community had rallied around the shop with immense love and loyalty. We expanded our compounding department, hiring two talented young female pharmacists from Northwestern University to manage our new natural health initiative.
Furthermore, the Arthur Bennett Memorial Foundation had officially launched, providing full academic scholarships for underprivileged women pursuing advanced degrees in pharmacology and toxicology.
One Saturday afternoon, I sat on my rooftop deck, watching the sunset paint the Chicago skyline in shades of brilliant amber, violet, and gold.
Dr. Cheryl Vance sat across from me, sipping a glass of crisp white wine, while a plate of fresh tapas sat between us on the teak table.
"You look different, Grace," Cheryl said softly, looking at me over the rim of her glass.
I smiled, leaning back against the outdoor cushions. "Different how?"
"You look like yourself again," Cheryl said warmly. "Not the woman who was trying so hard to keep a failing marriage together, and not the woman running for her life with a ziplock bag in her purse. You look whole."
"I am whole, Cheryl," I said, looking out over the city lights beginning to flicker on across the skyline. "For a long time, I thought that keeping my father’s legacy alive meant sacrificing my own happiness. I thought I had to endure Nathan's distance and coldness because I didn't deserve better."
I took a sip of my wine, feeling the cool, refreshing liquid on my tongue.
"When I stood behind that couch and watched him poison my pillow," I continued, my voice steady and peaceful, "it didn't break me. It woke me up. It reminded me that I am Arthur Bennett’s daughter. I am strong, I am smart, and my life belongs entirely to me."
"And what about love?" Cheryl asked gently, an arch in her eyebrow. "Are you ever going to let another man into your life?"
May you like
I laughed—a real, rich, genuine laugh that echoed off the brick walls of the rooftop garden.
"Maybe someday," I admitted, looking at the stars appearing in the evening sky. "But if I do, he’ll have to measure up to the standards I’ve set for myself. I don't need a partner to complete me, Cheryl. I’ve already completed myself."
