We set it up together, and she spent hours experimenting with it, testing its features, making small, perfect stitches. She was so focused, so determined. It reminded me of the way she had worked to save every penny for her dream machine—her dream that had been nearly destroyed.
I smiled watching her, knowing that no matter what Rachel or anyone else threw her way, she would find a way to rebuild, to keep moving forward. This machine was just the beginning.
But as I watched her, something shifted in me. It wasn’t just about Lily anymore. I had been angry—so angry—and rightly so. But deep down, I knew that what I had done had pushed things to the limit. I had avenged the injustice, sure, but at what cost? How far would I go to teach a lesson?
A part of me wished I had handled it differently. Maybe I should have talked to Mark. Maybe I should have let Rachel and him realize the full impact of their actions before resorting to such drastic measures. But what had been done was done. I had found my balance, and I wasn’t going to apologize for it.
A few days later, Mark called again, but this time, his voice was different. Softer. Almost apologetic.