All Chapters of Echos of Ruin: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Before the Storm Before life taught me how much a heart could break, it taught me how to love. I was a child of sunshine and open skies, where summers stretched long and laughter carried through the neighborhood like music. Ours was a small hometown where everyone knew everyone — where neighbors waved when they passed by, and any story worth telling made its way across town before supper. At the heart of that little world was my mother. She wasn’t just my mom — she was everybody’s mom. Family, friends, neighbors, even strangers — she cared for them all. There was always a pot of coffee on and something cooking on the stove, just in case someone stopped by. She carried people the way some carry faith — steady, tireless, and with a kind of grace that seemed endless. Our home was full — not just with love, but with people. I had thirty-four cousins who came and went like a revolving door, filling our days with n

Cracks in the Fairy Tale Just before our daughter was born, the cracks began to show. It started with a phone call — one of those moments that splits your life in two: before you know, and after you do. Someone I thought was my friend had thrown a party. I wasn’t there — I was home, six months pregnant, resting and preparing for the baby. She’d gotten a few of the guys really drunk, including him. That night, she slept with him. And she couldn’t wait to tell me. She smiled when she said it, proud of herself, like it was a victory instead of a betrayal. That was the first time he broke my heart — not just because of what happened, but because of who it was with, and how easily it all seemed to unravel. We broke up soon after. I didn’t know what else to do. I felt humiliated, hollow, and angry all at once. Every dream I had — of family, love, safety — shattered before it had even begun. Then

The Longest Winter My second pregnancy was no picnic. It was ten long, miserable months — yes, ten. He was supposed to be a Christmas baby, but he decided to hang on until well after the New Year. Eventually, the doctor had to evict him. From the very beginning, it felt different. I was sick all the time — morning, noon, and night. I couldn’t keep food down, no matter what I tried. And somehow, despite being constantly sick, I still gained too much weight. My body just wasn’t my own anymore. I had double the amniotic fluid, which made everything heavier, harder, and more painful. There were days I could barely move without feeling like my insides were being pulled apart. Meanwhile, he was busy with college and working shifts at the firehouse. I knew it was important to him, and I wanted to be supportive, so I did what I’d always done — pushed through. Even on the days I could barely keep my eyes open, I’d help him study. I’d qui

The Quiet RebuildWhen my mom showed up, she didn’t ask a single question.She just wrapped her arms around me and held on. That was all it took for the wall I’d been holding up to crack wide open. I cried until I couldn’t breathe — the kind of crying that shakes your whole body, that comes from a place deeper than words.She stayed with me for days.She cleaned the house, cooked meals, rocked the baby when my arms gave out. She made sure my daughter laughed again — reading to her, dancing in the living room, helping her pick flowers from the yard. Little by little, the air started to feel lighter. The house didn’t echo with tension anymore. It was quiet — but it was a good quiet.For the first time in a long time, we were safe.It took me a few days to start feeling like a person again. My body was sore, my throat bruised, my nerves raw. I’d catch myself listening for his car, holding my breath at every noise outside. But each morning th

The Summer That Stole EverythingThe work was heavy that year.Between long days on the job and the house we were building, every ounce of energy I had went into keeping things running. Summer came like a promise — warm evenings, long light, and a small window to breathe.I thought it would be a good time for the kids to spend a few weeks with their dad and grandmother. They’d get some rest from the noise and chaos of construction, and I’d have time to finish the house without little feet underfoot. It made sense — it felt right.It was, without question, the biggest mistake of my life.I did everything I was supposed to do. I followed every rule. I gave his grandmother power of attorney — not custody — just so that if the kids got hurt and she couldn’t reach me, she could sign for medical care. That’s all it was meant to be. She could call me anytime. I thought I was protecting my children, giving them family, stability, love.I never imagined it would become the weapon used to destr