Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Don’t let the devil stay inside you, girl.”
Irritation prickles my skin. He’ll never hear me. Not really. He’ll sit there behind the bars of his cell and never see me for the new woman I am. No matter how much I try, I’ll only be wasting my breath. I see this now. And the truth of the matter is…
I don’t need him to see me for the strong and resourceful woman I’ve become.
I don’t need his approval or his blessing.
I don’t even need his understanding that I will never be in his life again.
I don’t need anything from this man.
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life looking out a small window at a freedom you will never have. You are going to be held captive. You are going to be at the mercy of your jailer. You are going to die knowing exactly how I felt. You are the captive now. Not me. I’m free. I’m finally free.”
I hang up the phone and stand up to leave. I see his lips moving in rebuttal, his face red that I have the audacity to end the conversation before he’s finished, but I couldn’t care less what he’s trying to say. I’ll have the last word.
Me.
I’m in control. Not him. Never again will I hand my strength over to another person.
I walk out of the jail to join Christopher, who has anxiously been waiting for me. He doesn’t see me when I first arrive, and he’s pacing back and forth. The minute he does see me approaching, he runs up to me and takes me into his arms.
“Are you okay? How was it?” He pulls away so he can study my face.
I release the last breath of tension that is locked inside me and smile reassuringly. “He’s a sick man. He’s an evil man. But I know now that I’m free from all that. I never have to have him in my life again. It’s over. It’s finally over.”
Christopher pulls me into a hug and kisses the side of my head. “Yes. You’re free now, Ember. And I swear to you that you’ll never have to go through that again. I love you; I’ll always love you, and nothing and no one will ever change that.”
Yes, I’m finally free. The Ghost of Hallelujah Junction no longer haunts the town.
Epilogue
Ember
“They’re here!” I hear Violet scream from the doorway of the chapel. “Holly! Isaac! Ember and Christopher are here!”
We reach the top of the mountain, winded from our hike but thrilled to finally see our friends again. Winter has passed, as well as spring, and the signs of summer are all around us. New life, new birth, a new beginning. The hike up to the chapel was far harder than the hike down, but I had the excitement of seeing them driving me forward.
Holly and Isaac follow Violet as they meet us halfway. I’ve never seen the sisters look so happy. They have put on some weight, don’t appear hollow and sad in the slightest, and I see smiles on their faces until their cheeks run out. Violet is the first to reach us as she throws her arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace. She shows no signs of her once having a broken leg and in fact looks to be in perfect health and fitness.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she squeals.
I see Isaac extend his hand to Christopher, and they shake and then hug like long-lost buddies. A bond has been forever formed between them, and it’s obvious to see.
Holly forces Violet out of the way and gives me a hug herself. “It feels like forever since we’ve seen you,” she says. She pulls away and scans my body from head to toe, smiles, then looks at Christopher. “Come on inside, out of the sun. Let’s get you something to drink and eat. I’m sure the trip up here wasn’t easy.”
“That sounds great,” I say, looking at the chapel with new eyes.
It doesn’t have the haunted, evil, ominous look it did when I first laid eyes upon it. It’s obvious that repair work has been done to the exterior. There are no longer gaps between the weathered wood. Dead weeds that used to kiss the edges of the foundation are now colorful wildflowers.
When we enter inside, I almost don’t recognize it. Log walls have been built, sectioning off rooms, instead of the tattered sheets we used before. The floors are clean, the windows sparkling, freshly cut flowers are in a mason jar in the center of the large table, and the chimney is complete. It feels like a home rather than a prison. It smells of Holly’s stew, but this time it’s being cooked over a hearth that appears expertly built.
“You’ve done so much to the place,” Christopher says, spinning around and taking it all in. “It doesn’t look like what I remember at all.”