Finding the Courage to Stand Alone When Your Own Family Chooses Darkness
At four o’clock, my phone finally buzzed on the desk.
It was a text message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
*I told her no.*
My heart leaped into my throat.
A second text followed immediately.
*I’m outside your building.*
I stood up so fast my chair rolled backward into the filing cabinet.
I ran out of my office, past a startled Priya, and headed straight for the elevators.
The lobby downstairs was bright and modern, with giant glass windows facing the courtyard.
Through the glass, I saw Derek.
He was standing near the concrete fountain, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He wasn’t wearing his designer jacket anymore.
He was wearing a simple grey hoodie and jeans, looking battered but resolved.
I pushed open the heavy glass doors of the lobby and walked out into the cool air.
“Derek,” I said.
He turned to face me.
His eyes were red, and he had a small cut near his collarbone, as if he had torn his shirt off in a hurry.
“I did it,” he said, his voice raw.
“What happened?” I asked.