Chapter 9 - The Last SecretLater that evening, after the children had fallen asleep in the loft upstairs, Camille and Warren sat on the wooden porch outside the workshop. The city skyline shimmered in the distance, a reminder of the world they had both left behind.
“Do you ever miss it?” Warren asked quietly, watching the embers glow in the fire pit. “The money? The power?”
“I missed having a soul,” Camille answered honestly. “For a long time, I thought building things that lasted forever meant building them out of steel and glass. But I was wrong.”
She reached over, gently tracing the raised edges of the burn scar on his left arm. Warren shivered slightly at the touch.
“What are you looking at?” he whispered.
May you like
“A scar,” she said softly. “The only thing in my life that was real.”
Warren captured her hand in his, interlocking his grease-stained fingers with hers. “It’s funny. That fire nearly took everything from both of us. But it’s the only reason we found each other.”
