HEALING THE SCARS

CHAPTER 1

PENELOPE

I have almost nothing. Completely alone.

No parents—my mother walked out on us when my brother was born, leaving me and Dad to fend for ourselves. And now, Dad was cremated just a week ago. My dear brother lives with our Aunt Stephany now, and I miss him terribly. Dad was once a wealthy man, but his poor business decisions have left us in this desperate situation. And to add to my problems, my husband-to-be is coming to get me today. It's all chaotic; I can't think clearly. Why is life so unfair? I've tried to be good. At 23, I've already achieved so much. I finished school and now work at a local bar as a waitress to make ends meet, hoping someday I can afford college to study literature—my dream.

I stand at my bedroom window, looking outside one more time at what I once called home... It's no longer mine. If only Dad had made wiser business deals, then there would be no debts to cover and I'd still have the house, at least.

The memories flood back—Dad's strong presence holding our family together, the bitter taste of betrayal from a mother who abandoned us. Now it's just me, facing the harsh reality of losing everything Dad worked so hard to build.

It's almost noon, and I know the bank managers or whoever they send to do their dirty work will arrive soon. I haven't even packed my belongings yet for the new life I'm supposed to start. Just as a car with the bank's initials snakes into the compound, panic grips me. 

What if I run away?

My heart races as I scramble to pack, choosing only a few cherished items—a photo of Dad, Andrew, and me at the beach, the necklace he gave me on my birthday, and the journal where I poured out my dreams. Everything else, the furniture, the dishes—let them go. They're just reminders of a life slipping away.

The knock on the main door echoes through the empty rooms, but I can't bring myself to face the strangers who've come to take it all. With trembling hands, I grab the money I've squirreled away, stuffing it into my purse alongside my savings. Grabbing my bag and jacket, I slip out the back door, heart pounding with each step.

Outside, the cool air hits my face, a stark contrast to the suffocating anxiety inside. I run as fast as I can, away from the fading calls at the door, away from the life I never chose.

When I reach a safe distance, I collapse onto a bench, breathless and overwhelmed. Hailing a cab, I give the address of the airport, my escape route from this suffocating town. Maybe I can find solace somewhere, a place where no one knows my name or my past.

The cab ride is a blur, the town fading in the rearview mirror. With trembling hands, I book a room at a nearby hotel, the first step in my uncertain journey. A chance to rewrite my story, to rebuild what I've lost.