He cannot reach me, and more than that, he cannot move me.

I am not free because I beat him.

I am free because he became, at last, weightless — and so, at last, did I.

Chapter 20 — It Had Finally Begun

That evening I walked out onto the wide stone porch of my historic craftsman home, and the warm air carried the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and fresh pine, and I sat on the wooden porch swing wrapped in a soft wool shawl with a mug of chamomile tea in my hands.

My dog, Scout, a golden retriever with a great deal of opinion and very little dignity, lay at my feet, his tail thumping softly against the floorboards as the evening breeze moved through the garden.