She stared at the message for a moment, then sent it. Immediately, she blocked his number. Not dramatically.
Simply. Like closing the office door. Caroline set her phone down and looked around her home—the brownstone, the books, the drafts, the life she had defended.
She thought about what she’d learned, the thing she wished every woman knew before she had to learn it the hard way:
Trust is a gift. But control over your life is a right. No matter how loving someone seems, never hand over your power blindly.
Know your worth. Protect your future. Be willing to act before it’s too late.
Caroline took a slow breath. Then she opened her laptop and began to write again, the cursor blinking patiently, waiting for her words. And this time, Caroline wasn’t writing a fairy tale.
She was writing a story where the woman saved herself.
