Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of the Past
We didn't go to a hotel, and we didn't stay at our house. My dad packed two suitcases of our
clothes while Ava and I showered and changed out of our ruined school uniforms. The smell of
the milk seemed to cling to my skin, a physical reminder of the poison we had lived with for two
years. As I washed my hair, scrubbing until my scalp was red, I wondered how we had let things
get this bad.
When we came downstairs, Dad was waiting by the front door. He had a look of grim
determination on his face. He drove us out of the city, away from Columbus, heading east toward
the rolling hills of Ohio.
Two hours later, we pulled up a gravel driveway lined with towering maple trees. At the end
of the path sat a beautiful, slightly weathered Victorian farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. It
was our grandmother’s house—our mother’s mother, Grandma Evelyn.
Since Mom died, Denise had slowly cut us off from Evelyn, inventing excuses as to why we
couldn't visit, claiming Evelyn was 'too fragile' or 'unsupportive' of our new family structure. In
reality, Denise knew Evelyn could see right through her.
The moment the car stopped, the front door of the farmhouse flew open. Evelyn stepped out,
wearing a faded denim apron, her silver hair pulled back in a neat bun. She didn't ask any
questions. She didn't need to. One look at our pale faces and Dad’s shadowed, exhausted eyes told
her everything.
Ava scrambled out of the car and threw herself into Evelyn’s arms, weeping openly. Evelyn
held her tight, rocking her back and forth, her eyes meeting my dad's over Ava’s head.
“Thank God you brought them, Richard,” Evelyn said softly, her voice a soothing balm. “Come
inside. The kettle is on.”
The next few days were a blur of warmth, homemade soup, and the quiet comfort of a home
that actually felt safe. For the first time in years, Ava slept through the night without screaming
from nightmares. She spent her afternoons helping Evelyn bake cookies or walking through the
overgrown apple orchard behind the house.
But while Ava was healing, the storm was brewing back in Columbus.
My dad spent hours on the phone in Evelyn’s study, his voice low and tense. One evening, I sat
on the porch swing, wrapping a thick wool blanket around my shoulders, when Dad came out to
join me. He looked older, the lines around his eyes deeper than they had been a week ago.
“How are you holding up, Chloe?” he asked, sitting down beside me. The swing creaked gently
under our weight.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Just... waiting for the other shoe to drop. Denise isn't the type to just walk
away.”
Dad sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re right. She’s not. Her lawyers contacted mine today.
She’s demanding temporary spousal support, custody of Ava—claiming I’m an unstable parent
who abandoned his wife—and she’s trying to freeze my bank accounts.”
My heart plummeted. “Custody of Ava? She doesn't even like Ava! She hates her!”
“It’s a tactic,” Dad explained, his voice tight with anger. “She knows Ava is my weak spot. She’s
using her as leverage to get a bigger financial settlement. She wants to force me into giving up
the house and a massive chunk of my retirement savings just to keep her away from you guys.”
I felt a cold dread pooling in my stomach. “Can she actually take her, Dad? Can she force Ava to
live with her?”
Dad reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. His eyes were fierce. “Over my
dead body, Chloe. I made a promise to your mother to protect you both, and I failed that promise
for two years because I was too blind to see what was happening right in front of me. I won’t fail
you again. I don’t care if I lose every single cent I have. I will protect you and Ava.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the
sky in shades of bruised purple and brilliant orange. We were safe for now, but I knew the battle
May you like
had only just begun. Denise was a master manipulator, and she was preparing to drag our family
through the mud to get what she wanted.
