“You are a cold, selfish woman,” she said, her lip trembling with anger. “You are destroying this family.”

“The family destroyed itself,” I said.

I closed the heavy oak door and turned the deadbolt.

I heard her boots walk back down the wooden steps, and then the sound of the car engine starting.

I watched from the window as the red taillights disappeared down the gravel road.

The kettle in the kitchen began to whistle.

I walked back, poured the hot water into a mug, and sat down in the rocking chair by the fire.

The flames cast long, dancing shadows across the ceiling.

For the first time in five years, the cabin was completely quiet.

I took a slow sip of the warm tea, listening to the soft rain tap against the windowpane.

The price of their betrayal had been high, but they had paid it themselves.

I leaned my head back against the cushion and closed my eyes.

The mountain was silent, and I was finally home.