“I’ll think about it.”
“No, I'mserious. You need to get away from him.”
Her eyes are glossy, but she smiles bravely.
“We could live near the beach. With a little garden in the back yard.”
“Son…”
“You could sew another quilt. I could get you a sewing machine.”
The heartache on Amos's face mirrors my own.
“I don't know, darl,” she says.
“We could see each other all the time. Just like we used to. But without him.”
“I'd stick out like a sore thumb in the city. I don't belong there.”
“It's different than we thought,” I say. “It's not all traffic jams and skyscrapers. I own a little cottage by the lake. We can lay under the stars and sit by the fire.”
“That does sound nice,” she admits.
I follow her gaze between the truck and the house.
My desperation grows stronger.
I know the clock is ticking.
And I know the minute I leave, she’ll talk herself out of it.
“I need time to think about it, Marco. I can't just leave the way you did. You were young and fit. Had your whole life ahead of you. But look at me. Bung leg and missing teeth. Bruises all over. What if he comes looking for me?”
“That's what hewantsyou to think, Mum. He wants you to feel worthless and scared. He's got you trapped here. Just like I was. But you're not safe if you stay here. He's gonna keep hurting you. And I can't handle the thought of…”
Fear and frustration collide.
Heat rises in my lungs as the tears burn my eyes.
I hold her tight, knowing how terrified she must be.
A terror and learned hopelessness that surpasses anything I felt when I left.
A deeper vulnerability from decades of quiet resignation to her fate.
Years of convincing herself whatever she had to believe to survive.
I know I can’t make this choice for her.
It breaks me to pieces when I let go of her hand.
But I’ve prepared for this moment.
I know what I have to do.
???
Walking over to the truck, I reach inside my suitcase to find three envelopes.
