Chapter 8 - The Healing Process
The house finally felt safe again. With the threat removed, my focus shifted entirely to Chloe.
The trauma she had endured wasn't going to vanish overnight. She still had nightmares. She still flinched when someone moved too quickly. But I was there for every single tear.
I took an indefinite leave of absence from active field duty. My commander, Jackson, understood completely and transitioned me to an intelligence analyst role, allowing me to work securely from home.
We started therapy. Twice a week, Chloe and I went to a child psychologist who specialized in trauma. Slowly, the light started to return to my daughter’s eyes.
One afternoon, we were in the backyard. I was pushing her on the tire swing hanging from the old oak tree. The sun was shining, and the air smelled like pine and blooming hydrangeas.
“Higher, Mama!” Chloe shrieked, throwing her head back and laughing.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was the sound I had fought for, the sound I had burned a man’s empire to the ground to protect.
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“Hold on tight!” I yelled back, giving the swing a massive push.
She soared into the air, completely fearless, completely free. The bruises on her arms had faded entirely, replaced by the golden tan of a child who spent her days playing in the sun.
