earlier, I had left Ridgewood because staying would have required me to agree to a lie.
When I left the second time, I was not running.
I had told the truth in the town where it had first been buried.
I had seen it written into legal documents, spoken aloud in public, and turned into something useful for a girl who needed a beginning.
My family was not restored.
Some things are too damaged for that, and pretending otherwise would only repeat the old disease.
But my name was restored.
My grandmother’s intention was restored.
And the future taken from me was transformed into one that would belong, cleanly and unmistakably, to someone else who deserved a fair start.
I left home with a suitcase because it was all I had.
I left Ridgewood the second time with peace, and that was enough.
