Chapter 8 - The Weight of Freedom
The afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, painting the campus sky in shades of bruised purple and amber.
I walked down the brick-paved pathways of Ellison University, watching students laugh and carry books under their arms, completely unaware of the quiet storm I had weathered to get here. For the first time in my life, I wasn't looking over my shoulder, wasn't calculating diner tips in a coffee can, and wasn't shrinking myself to make room for someone else’s golden pedestal.
My phone vibrated again, breaking my train of thought. This time, it was an email notification from the federal trustee handling the asset recovery of my grandmother’s trust.
I opened the message on my phone screen as I sat down on a stone bench beneath a sprawling oak tree.
May you like
Miss Ellison, following the emergency injunction and the freezing of all associated secondary accounts tied to Brandon and Thomas Ellison, the initial restitution audit has successfully recovered seventy-four thousand dollars in diverted educational funds. These assets have been redirected entirely to your independent personal account, effective immediately.
I stared at the numbers on the screen. Seventy-four thousand dollars—the exact amount stolen from my future, returned to where it belonged.
