Chapter 42
The days that followed felt like walking on a thin line between hope and fear. Rachel tried to rebuild her life, but every shadow seemed to whisper threats, every stranger’s glance carried suspicion. She had escaped prison and the hell Eric had trapped her in, but his presence haunted her still.
One evening, as the sun dipped low, Rachel found herself wandering the streets, the weight of loneliness pressing hard on her chest. Her thoughts kept drifting to Helen—how unfair it was that her name was stained with lies, that she’d been blamed for a tragedy she never caused.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind. “Rachel.”
She froze. Heart pounding, she turned slowly. It was Eric.
His face was hard, his eyes wild with a mix of pain and desperation. The man who had destroyed her life was standing just feet away, as if fate had dragged them back together.
“Why are you running?” he asked, voice low and rough.
Rachel swallowed the anger and fear rising inside her. “Because you made my world a prison.”
Eric’s expression flickered, like a flash of something lost. “I thought you killed her. I thought you took everything from me.”
“No,” Rachel said firmly. “I never did. You ruined us both with your hatred.”
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the city. Then Eric’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him.
“Maybe I was the real monster all along,” he muttered.
Rachel looked at him, torn between pain and pity. “It’s not too late to make things right.”
But Eric shook his head, stepping back into the shadows. “I don’t know if I can.”
As he disappeared into the night, Rachel realized that their story wasn’t over. Not yet.
But for the first time in years, a fragile hope sparked inside her—a chance for healing, even from hell.