My image reflects back at me in the bathroom mirror.
I look over myself, searching for scars that represent my life up to this point, but they aren’t there.
There’s a line of scar tissue on my chest from the car accident, but other than that, my skin is flawless, and I fucking hate it. It’s weird to look the same as I did before arriving on the island even though I feel different in so many ways.
I’m stronger.
I felt weak for so long, being married to a man who saw me as his servant. I played the part of a doting trophy wife and never questioned whether I was worth more. It took actual slavery, transforming me to the point I barely recognize myself, to finally acknowledge my worth.
I’m braver.
Never would I have thought it would be so simple to put my life on the line for the sake of my freedom and others.
I’m more empathetic.
I didn’t know real struggle before this, but now that I do, I can appreciate more what people go through.
But the biggest change of all is how much I deeply, truly love myself. Love the woman I’ve become and the strength I’ve summoned, which has given me the ability to truly love others. To truly love Angel.
I never had that before.
And now I do.
So it’s hard, really, really hard to look at this woman in the mirror, so outwardly similar but so different internally, and wish to go back to my old life. To even consider what I would do if I were able to wave a magic wand and make all of this a dream. I really did mean it earlier when I told Angel that I have no regrets.
But damn, I’m ready to move on. As soon as Angel gets back, I plan on telling him my plan, what I want our plan to be. I’ve thought long and hard about it.
I want Elsie to go to Yale. I want her to have a normal young adult life, and I want to use my piece of shit, dead husband’s money to put her through it. I want to spend summers and Christmases together, and I want her to always know that she can come to me for anything.
As for Angel and me… I want to go to Spain. Even if he doesn’t admit it out loud, he misses his home country. I don’t know if we could live near his family since he’ll have to get a new name, but we could live along the coast or in Valencia or pick a quaint, little town and settle down there. With him being a fugitive, it’s safer there than it would be in the United States anyway.
So that’s what I want. A full life with him, even if it’s on the run. Even if we’re constantly looking over our shoulders. My first choice is Spain, but I’d go anywhere with him.
A noise sounds outside the bathroom, a screeching like someone is opening the back door.
Speak of the devil.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror, a tiny smile pulling, then I flip off the light and walk into the living room.
Angel’s footsteps clomp in the kitchen as I tuck my hair behind my ear while walking to meet him halfway.
“How’s Elsie? Is—”
I gasp when I bump into Sawyer’s chest before reflexively jumping back. He seems just as surprised to see me, his eyes going wide and jaw dropping.
“Liberty,” he whispers like he thinks he might be seeing a ghost.
I don’t respond. I have no idea what to say or if I should run or if I should try to explain myself or lie or what to do. Before I can make a decision, his shock wears off, his jaw tightening.
“You have got to be kidding me.”