was a strange word.
Because freedom doesn’t always feel like triumph.
Sometimes—
it feels like standing alone in the rain,
realizing the life you survived can never be the life you return to.
A black car pulled to the curb.
My driver stepped out and opened the rear door.
I took one last look at Harborpoint City—
at the place that had spent years convincing me I was nothing—
and for the first time,
I believed otherwise.
Then I got in.
And this time when I left—
I never looked back
