From His Prison To Sweet Freedom

Cob

f a concerned husband. He brought me meals, fluffed my pi

e corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, a softness in his eyes that was never, eve

you?" I asked one aft

quickly pocketed his phone.

o point in arguing. He wasn't here because he cared. He was here to make

dollar meeting if I had a headache. The Jason who held me all night when I h

s now just an inconvenience. A

lifornia sun was bright, but I f

son broke the silence. "Genesis's birthday

redulous. "You've go

n the road. "I want you two to get a

roying my life," I said, my voice shaking with r

degrees. Jason's jaw tightened. He pulled the car o

rrifying. All the feigned concern was

left of your mother in that urn... might just get scattered to the wind

do it. I knew he would. He would destroy the last pie

pered, the words tearing at my throat. "And now you use my mother's ashes to threaten me? Y

said you'd never let anything hu

. The man who used to wipe away my tears now s

rk on me anymore, Al

and a bitter, broken smile touched my lips. He was right. Love

hand. "Fine," I said, my voice hollo

wer said to bloom only once a decade on a remote, sacr

ps of the mountain temple from dawn until the

fifty-foot path of burning coals to the

I walked across those coals, the searing pain shooting up my legs, e

my body gave out. I collapsed, my feet a mess of burns

s in bed, recovering from the ordeal, the lotus carefully pre