It spread unevenly at first, then gathered force. Not joy—but recognition. Respect. Solidarity. Some women near Audrey had tears in their eyes. Others looked as though they had just witnessed something they had been waiting their entire lives to see—a woman refusing her assigned role and surviving it publicly.
Robert took Audrey’s hand.
“That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly. “If you or your son ever need anything, you may call on me.”
Only then, with everything finished and the danger gone, did Audrey begin to shake.
The adrenaline that had carried her drained all at once. Brenda caught her before she could falter, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her steady.
“It’s over,” Brenda whispered.
Audrey looked across the ruined garden—the shattered cake, broken glass, torn wrapping paper—the place where her old life had ended.
“No,” she said softly, her hand resting on her belly.
“It’s beginning.”
