The air in the Boston basement apartment was thick with the scent of old paper and damp brick.
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Chapter 8 / 10
Chapter 8 - THE EVENING PEACEAs the sun dipped below the horizon of Lake Michigan, painting the water in brilliant streaks of gold and violet, I sat on the wide stone patio with a cup of tea.
Little Clara, now a giggling toddler, chased a golden retriever across the grass while Dominic watched them, laughing as he caught her before she could tumble into the flower beds.
The man who terrified Chicago dropped to his hands and knees in the grass, letting our daughter braid plastic flowers into his dark hair.
I smiled, feeling a deep, unshakeable peace settle into my bones.
