Five years later.
The house smelled like warm bread and strawberry jam.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ54DfPN0bwr
Angelique, now 9, sat by the window with a book in her lap and paint on her cheeks.
Samantha stood in the garden, barefoot in the morning dew, watching Ryan build their tiny greenhouse—finally pursuing his quiet dream of growing something that never needed fixing.
"That tomato's crooked," she teased.
"Still growing though," Ryan replied with a grin.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ93qQ15x1t8
"Like me."
Samantha smiled and leaned against the post, her fingers tracing the gold band on her ring finger.
Later that afternoon, a package arrived.
Inside was a fresh copy of her second book—this time not about pain, but about peace.
Angelique peeked over her shoulder. "Is it about Daddy again?"
Samantha paused.
"Yes," she whispered.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMPPXsqnotS
"But it's also about you. About how we found light after everything tried to put it out."
Angelique smiled and hugged her from behind.
That evening, as the stars came out and laughter filled the kitchen, Samantha looked at them—her daughter, her husband, her home.
No fear.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWPLbU4I2Zo
No ache.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdBDTInCCLS
Just love.
She didn't just survive her story.
She rewrite it.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡySI6U0Z8az
And this ending?42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVdvr1HHuzQ
Was hers.
🕊️ The real victory was her peace.42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgR9JFJ8di1
And peace... looked just like this.
42Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCd5ZmG87ky
