The wind picked up outside my window, rattling the glass. I pulled my cardigan tighter, the wool thick and familiar. The acorn locket rested against my collarbone, polished to a soft shine. I wasn't a princess. I wasn't a victim. I was just a woman who knew how to keep her balance when the floor shifted. I picked up my pen, signed the next proposal, and turned the page.
The lights stayed on. The heat ran steady. And for the first time in twenty-two years, I didn't have to count the cost.