Chapter 7 - Khloe Walks Out Into The Cold Boston Night
The cold November wind whipped across the cobblestone streets of the North End as Khloe pushed through the back exit.
The chilly air felt incredible against her flushed, burning cheeks and the throbbing ache in her jaw.
She pulled her cheap canvas jacket tight around her shoulders, walking briskly toward the subway station.
Her swollen feet screamed in protest inside her non-slip shoes, reminding her of the grueling hours she had just endured.
Yet for the first time in years, the physical pain was overshadowed by a fierce, burning spark of pride inside her chest.
She had fought back.
She had refused to stay small to make room for someone else’s cruelty.
As she descended the concrete stairs into the subterranean T-station, the rumble of an inbound train vibrated beneath her boots.
She swiped her CharlieCard at the turnstile, stepping onto the crowded platform surrounded by ordinary commuters.
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Nobody looked twice at her, and for once, that anonymity felt like a warm, protective blanket.
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