I never had to.
Anne told the truth.
Linda preserved the evidence.
The tests confirmed it.
The people who had judged me were forced to confront what they had accepted without question.
And the child they had used as proof against me became the reason they could no longer maintain the lie.
That evening, I returned to the warehouse after the last service truck came in.
My name was still on the office door.
For years, I had treated that sign like armor, proof that I had survived what the Millers did to me.
I did not need it for that anymore.
Ten years earlier, they had turned my name into evidence.
Now it was simply mine again.
