Chapter 17
Part 17: Maya’s First Milestone
The true celebration of our freedom arrived on Maya’s first birthday. The backyard of our Lincoln Park home was decorated with simple pink balloons and paper banners, filled with laughter from our neighbors, colleagues, and true friends.
Maya was thriving, her hazel eyes alert and wide as she crawled across the green grass, her small hands grabbing at a wooden toy block. She was a healthy, resilient child who had never known the toxic atmosphere of the old apartment.
As I watched her blow out the single candle on her cake while resting securely in Clara's arms, my phone chimed with a private message notification from Marcus. It was an automated update from the state department of corrections.
May you like
Eleanor's final appeal had been denied by the circuit court, cementing her twelve-year sentence without the possibility of early parole. The system had locked the door on her malice permanently.
I slid the phone back into my pocket, a deep, radiant smile of absolute closure spreading across my face. I walked over and joined my wife and daughter, wrapping my arms around them both under the bright afternoon sun, knowing that the shadow had completely run out of time.
