Chapter 10
Six months after the divorce hearing, the criminal case went to trial.
I didn’t have to testify.
The security footage, the witness statements, the evidence of theft and fraud was so overwhelming that Daniel, Linda, and Hannah’s public defender advised them to take plea deals.
Daniel pleaded guilty to felony assault and conspiracy to commit fraud.
He got two years of probation, 200 hours of community service, a permanent felony record, and was ordered to attend anger management classes for a year.
If he violated any of it, he’d go to prison for five years.
Linda pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit fraud and harassment.
She got one year of probation, 100 hours of community service, and a $5,000 fine.
Hannah pleaded guilty to felony theft and assault.
She got one year of probation, 150 hours of community service, and was ordered to pay back every cent she’d made from selling my things.
They all moved to a tiny town in West Texas, far away from Austin, far away from me.
Hale got a postcard from the district attorney a month later, saying none of them had tried to contact me.
They were gone.
For good.
It was a Tuesday night.
Ironic, I thought.
Exactly six months to the day since the attack.
I was hosting a small dinner at the condo.
Aunt Marnie and Lila were there, visiting from Dallas.
Hale was there, of course—he’d become like the uncle I never had, stopping by the bakery every day for a free cookie and a chat.
Jake was there, too, his hand resting on my knee under the table, warm and steady.
We ate lasagna.
My recipe.
Not the one Linda used to force me to make, heavy on the garlic and the hate.
Mine. With extra cheese and spinach and love.
We drank wine, laughed, told stories about Dad.
Lila told the story about the time he’d tried to teach her to drive and crashed into a mailbox.
Hale told the story about the time they’d pulled that prank on the college dean.
Jake told me he loved me, right there in front of everyone, and I told him I loved him back.
After dinner, when everyone was full and happy, I stepped out onto the back patio.
The Austin skyline glowed in front of me, the same skyline I’d looked at a hundred times when I was sad, when I was scared, when I thought I’d never be happy again.
I held a small plate of Dad’s favorite chocolate chip cookies in one hand.
In the other, I held the small voice recorder he’d given me.
I pressed play.
His voice filled the warm night air, soft and familiar.
“If you’re hearing this, baby, something went wrong. But I know you. You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re going to fight, and you’re going to win. And when it’s all over? You’re going to be happier than you ever thought possible. I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way. I love you more than words can say.”
I smiled, a tear rolling down my cheek.
I took a bite of the cookie.
It was perfect.
Just how he’d taught me.
I looked up at the stars, and for a second, I swore I saw him there, smiling back at me, holding a cookie of his own.
I was safe.
I was loved.
I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
No one was ever going to hurt me again.
No one was ever going to take anything from me again.
I’d fought.
I’d won.
And my life?
It was just getting started.
Behind me, the patio door slid open.
Jake stepped out, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, extra marshmallows, just how I liked it.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close.
“Okay out here?” he asked, soft.
I leaned my head on his shoulder, looking out at the lights of the city I loved, the home I’d fought for, the future stretching out bright and endless in front of me.
I smiled.
“More than okay,” I said.
“I’m perfect.”
He kissed the top of my head.
Inside, I could hear Aunt Marnie laughing, Lila yelling that Hale had eaten the last cookie, the sound of my favorite song playing low on the stereo.
For the first time in my whole life, I felt completely, utterly, unshakably happy.
And I knew, without a doubt, that Dad was right there with me.
Proud.
May you like
Smiling.
Home.
