Despite Evelyn’s final arrest, a lingering anxiety hung over our home as the trial date approached.
Sophie began to pick up on the tension, clinging to Clara’s apron whenever someone knocked on the door and asking repeatedly if we were going to move away.
One evening, while Clara was helping Sophie with her bedtime bath, I sat on the porch steps watching the security guards patrol the front driveway.
Every rustle in the trees, every passing car’s headlights sent a jolt of adrenaline through my nerves.
Clara came outside, carrying a ceramic mug of hot chamomile tea, and sat down on the wooden step beside me.
“You cannot live like a soldier guarding an outpost forever, Adrian,” Clara said gently, handing me the warm mug.
“I have to protect her, Clara,” I replied, staring out into the dark yard. “If I hadn't looked at that security monitor at the restaurant, Sophie wouldn't be here tonight. I almost lost her because I was careless.”
Clara placed a warm, weathered hand over my wrist.
“You were not careless,” Clara said firmly. “You trusted people because you have a decent, honorable heart. And when danger came, you did not hesitate. You ran through that door, you took the plate away, and you stood between your daughter and a room full of wolves.”
She pointed back toward the lit windows of Sophie’s bedroom on the second floor.
“That little girl does not feel afraid because of the guards or the locks, Adrian,” Clara whispered softly. “She feels safe because she knows her father will never let anyone hurt her.”
Tears burned my eyes as I drank the tea, letting the warmth soothe the tightness in my chest.
Clara was right.
Living in fear was letting Vanessa, Julian, and Evelyn win from inside their jail cells.
We had survived their poison.
Now it was time to live without looking over our shoulders.
