Chapter 18 - A New Horizon
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Two years later.
I stood on the wide wooden deck of my new beach house in Malibu, watching the sunset cast golden light across the breaking waves.
Clara was running across the damp sand below, holding a yellow kite, while Victor Vance and Celeste—who had returned from London with a master's degree and a new lease on life—chased after her, laughing against the sound of the ocean.
Celeste walked up the wooden stairs a few minutes later, holding two glasses of sparkling water. She handed one to me, leaning against the railing.
"She looks so much like you, Evelyn," Celeste said, looking down at Clara. "She has your eyes. That quiet, calculating look."
"I hope she has my mind," I smiled, taking a sip of water. "But I hope she never has to use it to survive a man."
"She won't have to," Celeste said softly. "You built a wall around her so high that no man will ever be able to trick her into feeling small."
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We watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and orange.
My life was peaceful, prosperous, and entirely my own. The story of the broken wife in the hospital room had ended long ago.
