As we drove, I looked out at the city where I had lost my children, my marriage, and very nearly my life.

For a long time I had believed that surviving meant winning.

It doesn’t.

Surviving means being able to look back at all of it without feeling the pull to return.

Nathan had put a knife in me.

Sabrina had tried to have me killed.

Renata had turned my marriage into a move on a board.

Blackwood had murdered my father and called my children collateral.