Chapter 8 - A New RhythmMonths turned into seasons. Evelyn bought a modest cottage in coastal Maine, where the Atlantic crashed relentlessly against granite cliffs. For the first time in her adult life, her schedule was her own. She planted a kitchen garden, read history books she had long abandoned, and breathed without checking for approval.

One brisk morning at the local harbor bakery, she met Thomas, an architect who spent his weeks restoring historic lighthouses and wooden fishing boats.
"You're not from around here," Thomas remarked, handing her a loaf of sourdough. "You have the quiet look of someone who survived a major storm."
"I did," Evelyn said, catching her reflection in the bakery display. The shadows beneath her eyes were gone. "And I'm learning how to build something on dry land."
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