Chapter 5: Breaking the Cycle

I changed my number. Moved to a city where no one knew my name.

Her voice was bright. Triumphant.

She’d turned her pain into purpose. Building a case that finally brought him down.

Her laughter was infectious. Full of hope.

Those words echoed back to me. A promise fulfilled.

We survived. We grew. We became more than what the valley tried to make us.

The news came by phone. The councilman’s voice low and apologetic.

Her hair was thin and white. Her skin papery.

Her words bounced off me. Leaving no mark.

She collapsed onto the floor. Her sobs echoing through the empty room.

Her grief was real. But it was too late for forgiveness.

The sound surprised us both. Light and sharp in the stillness.

I said it softly. More to myself than to her.

Her grip was weak. Her hands trembling.

The old traditions die hard. I shook my head.

I laid out the options. My voice calm and clear.

She straightened her back. Her decision made.

The ceremony was grand. Neighbors whispering about the expense.

She basked in the attention. Her grief mingling with pride.

Her hands clung to my coat. Her eyes pleading.

The words hung in the air. Final and unyielding.

The house was quiet. The air thick with the scent of old age and regret.

Her voice was weak. Barely more than a whisper.

I met her gaze. My voice soft but firm.

Her grip was weak. Her words slurred.

I didn’t answer. She gradually stopped talking.

Her hand went slack. Her breathing slowing.

Her laugh was sharp. Almost joyful.

I thought about all I’d survived. All I’d become.

The truth is bigger than any name or role.

I stood. Brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

The ceremony was simple. But I did what needed to be done.

The road stretched out before me. Open and endless.

—The End—