Chapter 4

I found a small town nestled in the Green Mountains, a place I vaguely remembered from a brief, relatively positive foster placement years ago.

It was quiet, peaceful. The air smelled of pine and damp earth.

I rented a tiny cottage with a neglected garden. It was perfect.

The money from the cohabitation agreement wasn't a fortune, but it was enough to live simply for a good while, enough to give me breathing room.

I bought gardening tools, seeds, and soil.

I spent my days digging, planting, coaxing life from the dormant ground.

My hands, usually soft and manicured to please Julian, became calloused and stained with earth. It felt good.

I was reclaiming myself, one weed pulled, one seed planted at a time.

One afternoon, covered in dirt and sweat, I walked into the town's popular bakery and cafe to get a coffee. The place was warm, filled with the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon.

Behind the counter, a man with kind eyes and flour dusting his apron looked up.

His smile faltered for a second, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Clara?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "Clara-Rose?"

My heart stopped.

Only one person had ever called me that.

"Lee?" I whispered, my eyes widening.

It was him. Liam Walker. The older boy from the group home, the one who had been a protective figure, the one who saw past my shyness.

He was taller, broader, but his eyes were the same. Warm, steady.

He came around the counter, wiping his hands on his apron.

"I can't believe it," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "What are you doing in Oakhaven?"

Tears pricked my eyes. Tears of relief, of an unexpected homecoming.

"I... I needed a change," I said, a small, watery laugh escaping me.

"Well, you found one," he said gently. "It's good to see you, Clara-Rose."

He remembered. After all these years, he remembered.

That day, sitting in a cozy corner of his bustling bakery, I started to feel something I hadn' t felt in a very long time.

Hope.