Chapter 9 - The Eve of Reckoning
The night passed in agonizingly slow increments.
I sat in the armchair beside Gwen's hospital bed,
watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
For the first time in four years,
she was sleeping without crying in her sleep.
The hospital room was quiet,
save for the soft, rhythmic beep of the cardiac monitor and the hum of the air purifier.
Around 3:00 AM,
Gwen stirred,
her eyelids fluttering open.
She looked around the sterile room in momentary confusion before her gaze landed on me.
"Vance..."
she whispered,
her voice soft and raspy.
"I'm right here,
baby,"
I said,
leaning forward to stroke her smooth, hairless scalp gently.
"How are you feeling?"
"Safe,"
she murmured,
a faint, weary smile touching her lips.
"For the first time in years...
I actually feel safe."
"You are safe,"
I promised,
my voice thick with emotion.
"Nobody will ever hurt you again.
Not my mother,
not Paige,
not anyone.
I've taken care of everything."
Gwen reached up with a weak hand,
her fingers brushing against my cheek.
"You shouldn't ruin your relationship with your family over me...
they're still your blood."
"They stopped being my family the moment they let you starve in a concrete box while wearing my hard-earned money on their backs,"
I replied,
my voice hard as granite.
"Family doesn't steal from the dying,
Gwen.
Family protects them.
Tomorrow night,
this entire nightmare ends."
Gwen closed her eyes,
a single tear escaping down her cheek,
not of sadness,
but of profound, overwhelming relief.
She drifted back to sleep within minutes,
her breathing deep and even.
I sat back in the chair,
May you like
staring out the reinforced glass window into the dark, silent night,
waiting for the sun to rise on the day of reckoning.
