Free Divine by Karen Kingsbury

years, and then she managed to pull herself up from the grime and trouble of the street, get herself educated, and make something of herself.
    It was a Cinderella story, not something that could bring any real hope for Emma and her girls. They'd still be better off without her. She shrugged. "You were trampled by that guy, and after you grew up, you made good for yourself, right?"
    Mary's smile fell. "No. My story gets worse. And in the end—I wasn't strong enough to save myself from any of it."
    Emma sat back. Not strong enough? Mary Madison? And how could her story get worse? It was enough to convince Emma to end it all. If Mary's story got worse, then her story was bound to get worse too. It was more than she could stand, more than she could imagine going through, especially with two little girls who—
    "Emma, are you hearing me?" Mary touched Emma's knee. "I know what you're thinking." She smiled, and in it was that same hope Emma had felt earlier. "My story gets worse, but it isn't finished. Yours isn't either."
    Yes, it is, Emma. You're finished. Take the drugs and be done with it.
    "I need time." Emma hugged herself and pressed her arms against her middle.
    "You need more than that." Mary eased back and folded her hands. "But you're not ready."
    Emma's heart raced. "I won't ever be ready. I'm not like you."
    "Battered women, abused women—inside we're all alike." Mary's voice seemed to get quieter, calmer even as the tension in the room built. "Our story is the same, and freedom can only come one way."
    A drug overdose, Emma thought. That's the only way out of this nightmare.
    "Can I be blunt?"
    Emma swallowed hard. She wanted to bolt from the room and the building as fast as she could. Instead she exhaled hard. "Go ahead."
    "Taking your life isn't the way out."
    What? The voices had nothing to say. How could Mary have known what she was thinking? what she wanted to do? She felt the blood leave her face. "How . . . did you know?"
    "I told you." Mary lowered her chin, her gaze direct. No one had ever talked to Emma this way before. "I've sat in your chair before. I almost believed the lie that killing myself was the only way to find freedom. But it isn't, Emma." Her tone grew more stern. "You do that, and the nightmare will continue as long as your daughters live. Every day of their lives they'll wonder why their mama didn't love them enough to live."
    The shock was sharp and immediate. Emma had been telling herself that a drug overdose would set her daughters free. Someone could take them and raise them or give them to her mother, Grace. Everyone would be better off. But now . . . what if it happened the way Mary said? What if they went through life angry and hurt because their mother wasn't around? They might end up worse than if she lived.
    Emma kept her lips tightly pressed together, but inside her heart she felt something change. The desperate urge to run began to dissolve, and in its place came a knowing. She could get through the day. Maybe take the girls to the craft table or watch a movie with them. Something to pass the time until she could be back in this room again, hear the rest of Mary's story, and find out if she was right.
    If the two of them really did share the same story.
    The look on Mary's face said she knew she'd won. She stood, took Emma's hand, and helped her to her feet. "I'll see you at nine tomorrow morning."
    "Okay." Emma drew back and hugged herself again. She wanted to see her girls. But first she looked hard at Mary.  "Thank you. For taking the time." Before Mary could say anything else, Emma turned and left. As quickly as she could, she took light running steps to the day-care room.
    The same old woman was there, sitting on a small sofa reading to Kami and Kaitlyn, who were sitting on either side of her. When she heard Emma, the woman looked up. "Hi." She closed the book and grinned at the girls. "We'll finish reading tomorrow."
    Kami noticed her first. Her eyes lit up. She jumped off