Chapter 10 - Watch Me SurviveZ
Six months later.
The Ohio autumn air was crisp and sweet, painted with brilliant shades of amber, orange, and crimson.
I stood on the broad wooden porch of the brick colonial house in Columbus—our house. The bank had cleared the title, the debt had been settled through Grant's liquidated accounts, and the yellowed refrigerator drawings had been replaced with framed art created by Lily and Ethan.
Down in the front yard, Ethan was throwing a football with Marisol, his laughter echoing across the green grass. Grace was sitting on a yellow blanket, meticulously dressing her dolls, while Lily sat on the porch steps, working through an eighth-grade science project on a brand-new laptop.
My mother walked out onto the porch carrying two steaming mugs of apple cider. She handed one to me with a soft, genuine smile.
"They look happy, Becca," my mother said gently.
"They are happy, Mom," I replied, taking a sip of the warm cider. "We all are."
Things weren't perfect. My father was still struggling to rebuild his life, living quietly in a small apartment downtown and attending family counseling twice a week before he was permitted supervised visits with the kids. Daniel was working hard at a local nursery, paying off his community service hours, slowly earning back the trust he had shattered.
And Grant?
Three weeks ago, Grant pleaded guilty to federal wire fraud, tax evasion, and witness tampering. He was sentenced to seven years at a federal correctional institution in Pennsylvania. Vanessa had abandoned him the moment his assets were frozen, leaving the state before his indictment was even finalized.
I pulled my cozy cardigan tight around my waist, watching my children play in the sunlight.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email notification from the Franklin County Small Business Association.
Dear Mrs. Turner, We are pleased to inform you that your grant application for 'Phoenix Resettlement Legal Advocacy' has been approved.
I smiled. The non-profit organization I had started three months ago—using a portion of the financial settlement to provide legal aid and shelter for abused women facing complex divorce proceedings—was officially funded.
I put the phone back in my pocket and walked down the porch steps toward my children.
Lily looked up from her homework, watching me with her bright, intelligent eyes.
"Mom?" she asked.
"Yes, honey?"
"Are we going to be okay now?"
May you like
I reached down, brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and looked at my three beautiful, thriving children standing beneath the bright afternoon sun.
"We aren't just okay, Lily," I said, my voice strong, certain, and completely free of fear. "We survived."
