Esther’s POV
I had once believed the hardest part of leaving Nicholas behind was the first time, fleeing with nothing but my unborn children.
My legs had carried me through the woods, the city streets, and the cold nights, dragging me forward with hope tethered to sheer survival. I had thought I could leave him, thought the distance would be enough.
I was wrong.
The hardest part was now. Now, when every morning I was greeted with the cold truth.
I was still shackled to him, even from afar. Not by chains, not by walls, but by the invisible hand that reached into every corner of my life, turning opportunity into impossibility.
It began with whispers. Shopkeepers who had once greeted me warmly now turned away as I asked about postings. The seamstress who had trusted me to mend her son’
