Chapter 1
Three years passed,
swiftly and beautifully.
Lily grew into a bright child,
with dark curls,
and eyes that held no fear.
My clinic expanded,
serving hundreds of women,
who had been silenced,
just as I once was.
The scent of antiseptic and polished wood filled the hallways,
creating a sanctuary of justice.
I was sitting at my desk,
reviewing a new legal strategy,
when Mara walked into my office.
Her expression was grim,
and she held a thick envelope.
The return address bore the stamp of a state penitentiary.
Adrian was trying to reach me.
I stared at the envelope,
feeling a cold chill creep up my spine.
He had no right to contact us,
because the court had issued a permanent protective order.
Mara placed the letter on my desk,
her jaw tight.
"It bypassed the usual screening,"
she said.
"He bribed a guard,"
I guessed,
already knowing the answer.
Mara nodded,
taking a seat across from me.
"He filed an appeal last week,"
she explained.
"He is claiming ineffective assistance of counsel,
and extreme emotional distress."
I almost laughed,
but the sound caught in my throat.
Extreme emotional distress.
He had torn my newborn from my arms,
and he dared to claim distress.
I picked up a silver letter opener,
slicing through the cheap paper.
The handwriting was chaotic,
desperate,
and filled with thinly veiled threats.
He wrote about redemption,
about how he deserved to see his daughter,
and how my father had rigged the trial.
There was no apology,
only entitlement.
"He wants a hearing,"
Mara said gently.
"He thinks he can charm a new judge."
I folded the letter,
sliding it back into the envelope.
"Let him try,"
I replied.
"We have the original hospital footage,
and Vanessa’s sworn testimony."
My father entered the office,
carrying two cups of coffee.
He saw the prison stamp,
and his eyes darkened.
"I will make a call,"
he said coldly.
"The warden needs to answer for this breach."
"No,"
I told him,
standing up.
"We play entirely by the book."
I handed the letter to Mara.
"Submit this to the prosecutor,"
I instructed.
"It is a direct violation of the restraining order."
"It will add time to his sentence,"
Mara noted,
a small smile forming on her lips.
"Exactly,"
I said.
Adrian thought he was planting a seed of doubt,
but he had only handed me the shovel,
to dig his grave a little deeper.
I looked out the window,
watching the calm waters of the lake.
My daughter was safe in preschool,
learning how to paint,
and how to share.
She did not know the monster who contributed to her existence,
and as long as I drew breath,
she never would.
I turned back to my father,
who was watching me with immense pride.
"He is a ghost,"
I said firmly.
"And ghosts have no power here."
The room felt warm again,
as I threw the empty envelope into the shredder.
The machine whirred to life,
May you like
destroying his name,
one tiny strip at a time.
