Page 136 of Grace

I pull my finger away and read the name of the place.

Merriam, Kansas.

A small town in Johnson County. A chance… a perfect place to start over.

The next day, we pack my things right away. We don’t even have to call a moving company—everything I own fits in the trunk of the black Chevrolet.

“Before we go… I’d like to say goodbye.”

We drive to my old home, where I lived for fifteen years. I summon the memories one last time—the time we spent together, their faces, their smiles. Jamie. Nikky. Mom and Dad. My knees nearly give out, but Chase catches me and holds me tight. He doesn’t rush me. He doesn’t push me to move. He knows how important this is to me.

I didn’t want to go to the cemetery. I didn’t want to bring them flowers, because I wanted to remember them as they were in life. They’ll live on in my heart forever.

The cemetery is cold, faceless, quiet. But this house… it’s warm, noisy. It was filled with faces and loud laughter. Love. That’s how I want to remember them.

We get in the car. Chase takes my hand. We look at each other and don’t need words to understand. We’re ready to start a new life. Together.

The engine roars to life.

We leave Willow Creek, Oklahoma, behind. Forever.

Diary entry

Grace

22th August 2012

Is this the life I imagined at fifteen?

Far from it.

Because the life I imagined included my parents and my siblings. In that life, we were a big, happy family who came together at Thanksgiving. But after all the horrors I went through, I managed to crawl out of that darkness and grief and find the girl suffering deep inside me, waiting for my help. And without him, I never would’ve made it.

Chase Baker.

The man I fell in love with twelve years ago—the man who still looks at me with adoration in his eyes. His obsession, the whirlpool of desire in his gaze, never subsides. Not for a second. We moved to Merriam three years ago. We bought the house I’d always dreamed about. We renovated it and filled it with beautiful things. We cut off the appalling horrors of the past with our own hands and buried them deep. Never again did I say to him that I hated him.

The day when I opened my heart to him completely and whispered against his lips that I loved him, that I was in love with him, the heavens gave us a gift. I truly believe our love was fulfilled that day, sealed forever, because in 2010 our daughter, Nicole Elisabeth Baker, was born.

When our daughter asks us how we met, I’ll tell her we met at school—and that our love has been going ever since. I’ll replace the blackness with color, fill it with light and warmth. Our past will become what I once imagined it could be. Because with Chase by my side, I can be that girl with dreams and desires again. For our daughter, I’ll fill the gaps with those dreams, because I don’t want her to see her dad as a monster. Because even though this love is dark, and needed blood and sacrifices to be born, it was never just blackness—nor was it only pink clouds. There were trials and happy moments alike. And dreams really can come true. After all those horrors, I was given the life I’d always dreamed about: a caring husband who’s crazy about me, kids whose laughter will fill the garden, and a playful, funny dog everyone loves.

“Mom!” my daughter shouts from the swing Chase built for her as I’m writing these lines. He’s a real handyman. Soon, there will be a whole playground in our backyard.

I wave back, smiling. Chase flashes me that wide, charming smile of his—the one that makes my womb clench. That maddening lock of hair falls into his forehead, pulling me back in time. To our first kiss, to the van—and sometimes, to my underground prison. I’m glad we didn’t burn this diary. We both like to write our thoughts in it. And I smile when I read about the moments when he and I became one, over and over again.

Our daughter is the spitting image of Chase—just in girl form. They have the same dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. She even has the same bright freckles across her little nose. I stroke my growing belly and think about our son. Jamie Richard Baker.

I’ve carried everyone with me from my past life. I wouldn’t call having someone like Lucas Baker as a brother-in-law a stroke of luck… Still, he managed to have what was left of my family relocated to the Merriam cemetery. The grief—the pain, the tears—will never go away completely, but the ache in my chest is easing with time. I don’t dwell on how much it hurts that they’re gone—I hold on to the happy moments we had. I filled the aching gaps in my soul with happiness, with smiles. And I opened a flower shop in memory of Abigail.

“Mom!” A huge grin spreads across my daughter’s face, happiness glinting in her deep brown eyes as she hops toward me with her fists closed.

I close the diary and slide it onto the table. I get up from the garden bench and crouch in front of her.

“What is it?” I ask, smiling, and stroke her ruddy cheeks.

“A fairy.”

“A fairy?” I ask, surprised, and peek through the gaps between her fingers.