Chapter 9 - ROOTS AND WINGSThe afternoon sun was warm on Amelia's face as she walked back up the stone steps of the Blue Ridge cabin. Mrs. Miller—who had chosen to retire with Amelia as a dear friend and companion—was sitting on the porch, shelling peas into a ceramic bowl.
"Was that another reporter, Ms. Amelia?" Mrs. Miller asked with a warm smile.
"No," Amelia said, sitting down in the rocking chair beside her and picking up a pea pod. "Just a wrong number from the past."
"Well, good riddance to the past," Mrs. Miller laughed softly. "Look at this harvest, Amelia. I told you planting those heirloom tomatoes in mountain soil would work wonders."
Amelia smiled, snapping an open pod and watching the green peas roll into the bowl. She felt a profound, unshakeable peace settle deep into her bones.
She didn't need a mansion guarded by iron gates to feel secure. She didn't need a billionaire husband to feel worthy of love. She had built her own fortress, not out of glass and stolen concrete, but out of resilience, self-respect, and unbreakable strength.
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For the first time in her life, she wasn't waiting for someone to give her the world.
She was holding it in the palm of her hand.
