Chapter 35 Ashes & Accusations #3
The bakery has been transformed.
Again.
Do my friends ever sleep?
The Halloween decorations are still up, but now there are streamers—orange and black, naturally—and a banner that reads "CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR FREEDOM," that's both touching and vaguely threatening.
Tables have been pushed together, covered in food that definitely wasn't there this morning—casseroles, salads, desserts that aren't from my bakery, which is both insulting and touching.
And in the center, a cake.
A beautiful, three-tier cake decorated with a phoenix rising from flames, the words "She Rises" written in elegant script across the base.
"Who made this?" I whisper.
"Town effort," Rosemarie says proudly. "Mrs. Chen did the decorating. She used to be a pastry chef in Chicago."
"Mrs. Chen? The woman who complains about my frosting techniques?"
"She complains because she cares. Very aggressively cares."
The party that follows is surreal.
People I barely know toast me with Miss Bea's cider—which is definitely spiked, possibly illegally. Mila presents me with a "#TeamHazel" t-shirt that she apparently made last night. Reverie's already edited together a video of the courthouse confrontation that's "definitely going viral by dinner."
And my pack.
My pack doesn't leave my side.
Rowan keeps his hand on my lower back, a steady presence that keeps me grounded. Luca intercepts well-meaning townsfolk who want details I'm not ready to share. Levi makes jokes that cut the tension, turning potential awkwardness into laughter.
"Speech!" someone calls, and the chant picks up.
"I don't do speeches!"
"You just delivered one in court," Levi points out. "That was a speech. A badass speech."
"That was a breakdown!"
"A badass breakdown!"
But people are watching, waiting, and Miss Bea is refilling my cider cup with something that smells strong enough to strip paint, so I climb onto a chair—why am I always climbing on furniture?—and look at the faces below.
These people. This town. This community that I thought would judge me, gossip about me, tear me down.
Instead, they're here. Celebrating my freedom like it's their own.
"I don't really know what to say," I start, voice shaking slightly. "This morning I woke up at 3 AM to make ghost cookies, got served with a court order, and ended up watching my ex-husband get arrested for trying to kill me, which is honestly not how I expected Halloween to go."
Scattered laughter, warm and supportive.
"But standing here now, looking at all of you..." My throat tightens. "I moved to Oakridge to disappear. To be invisible. To start over somewhere no one knew my story or my failures."
"You haven't failed at anything!" Rosemarie yells, and others echo agreement.
"I thought starting over meant erasing everything and building from nothing. But my pack—" I gesture at the three Alphas watching me with expressions that make my chest ache, "—they taught me something different. They taught me you don't have to start over. You build from where you stand."
"And you stand with us!" someone calls out.
"I do," I agree, smiling through tears that won't stop falling.
"I stand with you. With this town that welcomed a disaster of an Omega who can't stop stress-baking at 3 AM.
With friends who finish my cookie orders while I'm in court.
With a pack that built me a nest and a future without asking for anything except that I stay. "
Rowan's smile could power cities.
"So thank you." I raise my cider cup. "For the justice. For the pie. For proving that sometimes, the best revenge isn't success—it's freedom."
"TO FREEDOM!" the room choruses, and everyone drinks.
I climb down from the chair—gracefully this time, Luca's hand steadying me—and suddenly I'm being hugged by what feels like the entire town.
"Proud of you," Miss Bea whispers.
"About time someone took that man down," Mrs. Chen adds.
"You're a badass," Tommy says, then blushes. "Sorry. Is that inappropriate?"
"That's perfect," I assure him.
The party continues into the afternoon, bleeding into evening, people coming and going as the news spreads. My phone won't stop buzzing—messages from customers, interview requests, one very enthusiastic email from the modeling agency about "capitalizing on this publicity."
"Make it stop," I groan, shoving my phone at Reverie.
"Never," she says cheerfully. "This is career-making publicity! You're the Omega who stood up to her abuser and won! That's a brand!"
"I don't want to be a brand, I want to be a baker!"
"Why not both?"
Eventually, the crowd thins. The sun sets. Halloween properly begins with trick-or-treaters who've heard about the "courthouse lady" and want to see if I'm real.
I hand out candy—full-size bars because I'm emotionally exhausted and making good choices is beyond me—while my pack hovers.
"You okay?" Rowan asks for the seventeenth time.
"I don't know," I admit. "Is this real? Is he really gone?"
"He's really in jail," Luca confirms. "Nash says with the evidence we have, he won't make bail. And the insurance fraud alone carries serious prison time."
Prison time.
Korrin in prison.
The man who made me feel worthless, trapped, small—facing actual consequences for his actions.
"I can't process this," I whisper.
"You don't have to process it tonight," Levi says gently, pulling me against his chest. "Tonight you just have to exist. Feel what you feel. Eat too much cake. Let us take care of you."
Let us take care of you.
For the first time in my life, that doesn't feel like a threat.
It feels like freedom.
We close the bakery early—even though it's Halloween and I'm probably losing money—and retreat to my apartment, where the nest in the barn is calling, but I'm too exhausted to walk that far.
So we built a nest on my living room floor instead.
Blankets and pillows and three Alphas who arrange themselves around me like I'm something precious that needs protecting.
"I verbally destroyed him in court," I say into the comfortable silence.
"You did," Rowan agrees.
"In front of the whole town."
"You did," Luca confirms.
"While wearing a thrift store dress."
"Best fifteen dollars we ever spent," Levi says.
I laugh, finally, really laugh. The kind that comes from relief and exhaustion and the surreal nature of a day that started with ghost cookies and ended with justice.
"Thank you," I whisper into the nest. "For documenting everything. For building the case. For protecting me even when I didn't know I needed protecting."
"Always," they say in unison.
And wrapped in blankets and pack scent and the knowledge that Korrin can't hurt me anymore, I finally let myself believe it.
I'm free.
Really, truly, finally free.
The ashes of my past life have settled, and from them, I've risen.
Not perfect. Not undamaged. But strong.
And surrounded by people who love me not despite my broken pieces, but because I survived them.
"Happy Halloween," Levi murmurs against my hair.
"Happy Halloween," I echo. “But I call for a power nap and then we’re going trick-or-treating because we aren’t wasting those costumes.”
They all laugh, making me giggle with them in pure bliss.
Best. Halloween. Ever.
Even if I did spend part of it watching my ex-husband get arrested.
Especially because of that, actually.
Justice and pie…a good ring to it.