“I’m okay, Honor. But I do want my truth.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Fox, I will marry you.”
EPILOGUE
HONOR
New Year’s Eve
Six Months Later
Revenge is a dish best served in irony.
Iswallow the knot of anxiety in my throat as I wait for my cue. The phone in my hand vibrates.
Fox
You got this, firecracker. Remember you’ve already won them over.
Honor
Sure you don’t want to swap?
Fox
No, but I will be waiting the second you are off stage to offer my congratulations. Did you wear it?
Honor
Maybe.
Fox
Nowthat’s all I can think about.
“Please give a warm welcome to the foundation’s founder, Honor.”
I stride onto the stage and squint at the bright lights that shield the majority of the audience from my view. I nod at the man in a tux before coming to a stop in front of the podium. I place my note cards and phone on the stand and smile at the hundreds of people waiting to hear what I have planned.
I clear my throat and glance at my first card. “There’s an epidemic in our country; a silent storm suffocating men, women, and children. Domestic violence can take many forms. Physical, sexual, financial, emotional—each one devastating in its own way. Sadly, many of these cases go unreported. Abusers use fear, guilt, and shame to control, manipulate, and isolate.”
The room is totally silent as the attendees hang on my every word. “The Haven Foundation, funded by my late husband’s fortune, is building a network of safety across America. It is providing care, protection, and relief. Every cent Gideon left is being poured into creating a haven for survivors. It is securing knowledgeable legal services to prosecute the guilty. Day by day, step by step, we will begin to erode this disease. But we need your support, and your guidance and influence to help petition lawmakers.
“When the system is set up to protect the guilty, we have to push back, question everything, and be the change needed to usher our country into a new world.”
My phone flashes.
Fox
They are eating out of the palm of your hand. Go for the kill, firecracker.
I lick my lips and scan the audience. “What gives me the authority, the knowledge, the power to make such sweeping statements? Experience. I am a survivor of domestic abuse, and it is my intention to change the world—starting with the people who helped me when I had nowhere to turn, the people who have already formed a network dedicated to keeping survivors safe, and who now have the financial backing to expand.”
A collective gasp rises from the crowd, and murmurs echo throughout the room. I turn to the side and hold my arm out toward the people waiting in the wings. “Mel and Louise—our joint directors managing a network of safe houses in each and every state.” The women smile at me as they come to stand on my left.
