Send.
The message is markedseenjust a second later. He is typing back… then stops.Deleting…
My heart skips a beat. He is typing again. A single message arrives:
‘I understand.’
My lungs expand all the way for the first time since I left.
Outside, the waves crash against the shore, endless and untamed. I watch them, a silent lesson in power. They don’t wait for anyone. They don’t bend for anyone.
Neither should I.
I love him—with every broken piece of me. But being with him now, means losing the last piece of myself I have to fight to keep.
That girl of twenty-one, who believed she was too small for this world, who let fear and shame cage her, who expected to be saved—she’s still inside. But so is the woman who survived. The woman who is becoming stronger. Alive. Ready to make her dreams come true. No expectation of salvation.
Silvia brings me a blanket, draping it around my shoulders.
“This is just the beginning, Chiquita,” she whispers.
I nod, pulling the blanket tighter.
Yes. A beginning.
* * *
Dorian
The stars blaze sharp tonight. But all I can feel is the darkness crawling under, devouring the hope that had just begun to bloom after the last days with Della.
I tighten my grip on the terrace railing, knuckles bleaching, metal biting into my palm. The wind cuts across my face, cool, relentless.
Della loves the wind. She once told me the wind felt like a hug from the sky.
But tonight, to me, it feels like emptiness. I need her in my arms.
I stalk from the terrace to the bar inside and back, the space feeling less like a home and more like a cage. Every muscle in my body is coiled, screaming for action—to fly, to drive, to act.
But all I can do is wait. The helplessness is a poison, and I feel it crawling through my veins.
I will lose my mind if I don’t find out tonight where she is. Julian is still combing through O’Hare’s flight records, calling every airline. David is working another angle, trying to reach Della’s sister-Alexandra.
And still—nothing.
Tomorrow, I handle Leah. One signature is all I need.
I was a fool to think she wouldn't dare twist the truth to hurt Della. I was going to tell her myself, tonight.
The thought is another shard of glass in my gut.
The phone buzzes. A message.
Della.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
I’m in San Diego, at Silvia’s. Can’t talk. Not yet. I need time.
