Clara and I finally moved out of the cramped Queens studio into a beautiful townhouse overlooking the Hudson River.
For the first time in years, I slept without nightmares of prison gates and slamming steel doors. Clara had enrolled back in college to finish her degree, her tuition fully paid for by the new corporate trust.
We cooked dinner together, laughing and talking about the future—a future we built with our own hands, free from parasites like Daniel.
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