The morning after Daniel’s arrest, I woke up not to fear or dread—but silence.A heavy, strange silence.No calls from blocked numbers. No packages on the porch. No cryptic messages left in the mail. No black SUV parked across the street, pretending to be invisible.Just… quiet.It should have been comforting. But instead, I felt disoriented.After months of being hunted—emotionally, mentally, and almost physically—freedom tasted like something I had forgotten how to swallow.Victor had called it “temporary peace.” He wasn’t wrong. Daniel might be in custody now, but the damage had been done. And even behind bars, a man like him found ways to manipulate the world outside.Still, it was a start.And I had to decide what to do with it.That morning, I didn’t check my emails. I didn’t scroll the news to see what the tabloids had picked up. I didn’t even look at my phone.I sat on the porch with a mug of lukewarm coffee, watching Noah play soccer
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