“I don’t erase my past. I build on it. Brick by bruised brick.”


The salon smells like lavender and lemon these days.


My name’s on the door now—“Nell’s House.” Small gold letters, simple. Clean.


Sometimes I catch myself watching the girls walk by outside. Some look like I used to—tired, hungry, fierce. I want to run out and grab them. Tell them there's another way.


But I know you can’t save someone until they want out.


Some nights I still dream about Keke.


Sometimes I imagine she’s in Atlanta, braiding hair and drinking sweet tea. Other times, I know better.


I light a candle for her every Sunday.


Elijah’s still around. He brings my lunch when I forget to eat. Rubs my feet at night. Calls me “Nellie” just to make me smile.


I still write in the red notebook.


But now the steps look different.


Step 1: Stay free.

Step 2: Stay soft.

Step 3: Build something no one can take from you.

Step 4: Love yourself like no one ever did.


And every night, I add the same line at the bottom of the page:


You made it out. Don’t go back.