From Housewife To His Worst Ex-Wife
In ten years, twenty years, fifty years, they'd tower over this space, providing shade and beauty and life.
Just like the survivors who found their way here.
I'd been buried. Paralyzed in that bedroom, poison in my veins, my identity stolen, my daughter taken, everything stripped away. Alex had tried to kill me slowly, thinking he could crush me into nothing.
He didn't know I was a seed.
And seeds, when buried in darkness, don't die. They germinate. They push through soil and stone. They reach for sunlight with relentless determination. They grow.
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