Five years later.
The house smelled like warm bread and strawberry jam.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfc0pO9W51H
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.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPxArPpmiIS
"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.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqp9tUjlDLw
"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.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡomKYMuzRaP
No ache.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqms7s8Wyhz
Just love.
She didn't just survive her story.
She rewrite it.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9pxOEAbd36
And this ending?49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcixKKGr4vn
Was hers.
🕊️ The real victory was her peace.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaFbtX9f5hJ
And peace... looked just like this.
49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkg2Y8U25RY
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