Chapter 28
Gabriel and Maya's daughter was born in the fall.
They named her Abigail.
I now had three grandchildren.
Grace.
Liam.
Abigail.
They were the lights of my life.
I spent as much time with them as I could.
I told them stories.
I taught them to bake cookies.
I read them books.
I loved them with every fiber of my being.
And I made them a promise.
A silent promise.
I will always protect you.
I will always love you.
You will always be safe.
You will never know what it's like to be betrayed by the people who are supposed to love you most.
And I kept that promise.
Every single day.
As I watched them grow, I thought about the cycle.
How it had been broken.
How the Collins family's legacy of cruelty and violence and lies had ended with me.
How my children and grandchildren would only know love.
Only kindness.
Only safety.
It was the greatest victory of all.
Greater than any lawsuit.
Greater than any prison sentence.
Greater than any book or speech or award.
Love had won.
Hope had won.
Good had triumphed over evil.
Not by destroying the evil.
But by outliving it.
By creating something so beautiful that the evil was rendered irrelevant.
That winter, I sat down to write my memoir.
The full story.
Everything.
From my earliest memories of Megan's cruelty.
To my parents' neglect.
To the day of the attack.
To the trials.
To the healing.
To the life I had built.
I called it "Full Circle."
Because that's what it felt like.
I had come full circle.
From a little girl craving her parents' love.
To a woman who had learned to love herself.
From a victim of family violence.
To an advocate for victims everywhere.
From a broken woman in a hospital bed.
To a grandmother surrounded by love.
The book was published the following spring.
It became my biggest bestseller yet.
People wrote to me from all over the world.
Telling me their stories.
Telling me how my story had helped them heal.
One letter stood out.
It was from a woman in her fifties.
She wrote:
I cut my family out of my life ten years ago. My sister was just like your Megan. My parents were just like yours. I have carried so much guilt. So much shame. People tell me I should forgive them. That I should reconcile. That family is everything. But your book gave me permission to stop feeling guilty. You made me realize that I don't owe them anything. That my mental health and my safety are more important than their feelings. Thank you for giving me my freedom back.
I cried when I read that letter.
Because I knew exactly how she felt.
I had carried that same guilt.
That same shame.
That same pressure to forgive and reconcile.
But I had learned the truth.
Forgiveness didn't require reconciliation.
Family wasn't everything.
Love was.
May you like
And I was so glad I could give that woman her freedom back.
Just as so many people had helped me find mine.
