Chapter 8 - SHADOWS IN THE REARVIEW MIRRORThe drive back to Washington, D.C., was peaceful.
My father sat in the passenger seat of my SUV, listening to classic country music on the radio, his eyes relaxed as the autumn landscape blurred past the window. Every few miles, he would turn to look at me, smiling just to make sure I was still there.
"You know, Maya," he said softly during a quiet instrumental break in the song, "I used to worry about you. Running around the world chasing dangerous criminals, dealing with murderers and terrorists... I always thought my little girl chose the hardest path in life."
I kept my eyes on the highway, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "It's not so bad, Dad. You just have to know how to read the evidence."
"I guess I did," he chuckled softly, resting his head back against the headrest. "If you hadn't picked up that phone at two in the morning... I wouldn't be here right now."
"You would be," I said firmly, though my heart tightened slightly at the thought. "Because nothing on this earth was ever going to stop me from finding you."
He reached across the console, placing his warm, steady hand over mine.
May you like
"I know," he whispered. "I know."
In the rearview mirror, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deep shades of purple, gold, and burning orange. The shadows of the past were fading fast, swallowed up by the night, leaving only the open road ahead.
