Chapter 8 - Fearless
Two years later.
The campus of Columbia University was beautiful in the autumn. Gold and red leaves covered the walkways.
Chloe and I sat on a bench outside the library, drinking coffee and laughing about a professor's terrible joke.
We had used our father's trust fund to pay for our education.
Chloe was studying psychology, planning to become a counselor for abused teens.
I was studying pre-law and forensic accounting. I wanted to hunt down men like Arthur who hid behind money and power.
We had also taken a portion of our inheritance to start a non-profit organization in our father's name. The Thomas Finch Foundation provided free legal representation and emergency housing for domestic abuse survivors.
Julian visited us every month. He was happier now, finally at peace knowing his brother's daughters were safe.
Sometimes, I still had nightmares.
Sometimes, I would wake up in a cold sweat, hearing the television blasting in my ears.
But then I would look across the dorm room and see Chloe sleeping peacefully.
I would look at the locked door, knowing no one was coming to hurt us.
Arthur Vance was rotting in a concrete cell, a faded memory of a monster that couldn't break us.
He used to ask me if I was pretending to be fearless.
He never understood that fear isn't a weakness.
Fear is the fuel that keeps you alive long enough to fight back.
I took a sip of my coffee, feeling the crisp autumn breeze on my face.
I wasn't pretending anymore.
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We had survived the dark.
And now, stepping into the light, we were truly fearless.
