*CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX* Tamar stood by the kitchen window, fingers wrapped around a chipped mug of tea, watching the way sunlight dripped slowly through the branches outside. Everything felt new. Not dramatically different, but quietly shifted, like a door in her soul had creaked open just enough to let some light in. Manda’s soft footsteps padded into the kitchen, hair still damp from the shower, uniform freshly ironed. She looked like a different girl. Her eyes held a gentle fear, but also a flicker of something stronger, hope. Tamar turned to her and smiled. “You look beautiful.” Manda blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I feel… nervous. But good nervous, I think.” Tamar walked over, adjusted the collar of Manda’s shirt like a mother would. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispered. “You’ve already survived the worst. Now you just get to live.” There were tears in Manda’s eyes, but she blinked them back and nodded. Blake appeared a moment later, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder. His clothes were simpler now, but the boy was beginning to stand straighter, like someone who wasn’t afraid of being seen. He looked at Manda and said, “Ready?” She nodded. Elian entered the room, car keys in hand. “We’ll be back in an hour,” he said gently to Tamar, then added to the two teens, “Let’s go make some new memories.” The door closed behind them. And Tamar was alone. The quiet returned, and this time it felt like an invitation. She walked slowly into her room, sat at her small desk, and pulled open her old drawer, the one she never touched. Beneath the old notebooks and scattered receipts, she found the crumpled piece of paper Elian had slipped to her the night before. It was a printout of the university law exam portal, the application deadline circled in red ink. Her fingers hovered over the form. _"Who do you think you are?"_ the old voice whispered in her head. _"A whore trying to be a hero?"_ She closed her eyes. And then she remembered Manda’s trembling shoulders behind her that day. The way Blake had stood like a silent wall. The way Elian had said _God never asked for perfect people, just willing ones._ She didn’t feel brave. But she felt... ready. Bit by bit, she filled out the application form, her hands slightly shaking but her eyes sharp with focus. Each field felt like a wound slowly turning into a scar: name, date of birth, prior education. When she got to the section about purpose, _Why do you want to study law?_ she paused. And then she wrote: _Because I’ve seen what sileoes to the broken. And I want to be a voice that doesn’t flinch._ She sat back, falling asleep as her body relaxed. She didn’t even hear the front door open, didn’t hear the muffled laughter of Manda or the scuff of Blake’s shoes on the hallway tiles. She only stirred when a soft knock landed on the doorframe, followed by Elian’s voice, low and gentle. “Tamar?” Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented for a breath. She blinked against the light, then turned her head slowly toward him. He stood there in the doorway, his jacket slung over one arm, a curious smile playing at the edges of his lips. “You okay?” Tamar nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Yeah… I just… I think I fell asleep.” Elian stepped into the room, his eyes falling on the laptop screen and the crumpled form beside it. He said nothing at first, only looked. And then, with a quiet pride that softened his whole face, he said, “You did it.” She didn’t reply. Her throat was thick, emotion caught somewhere between embarrassment and gratitude. “I didn’t think I’d be able to,” she admitted in a whisper. “I almost closed it so many times.” Elian knelt beside her, his voice steady. “You didn’t. That’s what matters.” Tamar stared down at her hands, still resting on the desk. “I don’t know if I’ll even get in. Or what comes next.” “That’s okay,” he said. “Courage doesn’t wait for certainty. It just moves anyway.” She let out a breath, half laugh, half sigh, and turned to him. “I’m not who I used to be.” “No,” Elian said, smiling now. “You’re becoming.” They stayed like that in the soft silence, the room holding them like a secret. Tamar felt the weight of his words settle into her, not heavy, but grounding like roots reaching into something solid. From the hallway, Manda’s voice called, “Tamar! Blake says you should come see what he drew in art class!” Elian stood and held out a hand. Tamar took it. And as they stepped out into the hallway, the scent of warm food drifting from the kitchen, laughter spilling through the air, Tamar realized something. She had been standing at the edge of her life for so long, afraid to step in. But now, finally, she was walking forward, with Elian holding her hands, leading her forward. …