The morning after Webb's arrest, I woke up feeling like I could finally breathe.
For weeks, the threat had been hanging over us like a dark cloud. The attacks, the fear, the constant vigilance—it had all been consuming me, draining me, making me feel like I was drowning. Every shadow felt like a threat. Every phone call felt like bad news. Every night, I lay awake, wondering what would come next.
But now Webb was in custody, and Sophia was safe, and we could finally start to heal. The weight that had been pressing down on my chest for months had finally lifted. I could breathe again.
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my hand on my belly. The twins were quiet, peaceful, as if they too could feel the shift in the air. The sun was streaming through the windows, warm and golden, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't feel the weight of the world pressing down on me. I felt light. I felt free. I felt like myself again.
