Lily's POV

Three years later.

I stand in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom, studying my reflection with a sense of wonder that still catches me off guard sometimes. The woman looking back at me is almost unrecognizable from the broken, poisoned version of myself who once thought death was the only escape.

This woman has clear eyes, bright and alert, no longer clouded by drugs or fear. Her skin glows with health, not the sickly pallor of mercury poisoning. Her hair is long and shiny, falling in waves past her shoulders. She stands tall, shoulders back, radiating a quiet confidence that comes from surviving hell and choosing...