Chapter 30 - The Open Road
Three months later, the coast of Oregon was painted in the brilliant, fiery hues of autumn. The ruins of the workshop had long since been cleared away by municipal bulldozers, leaving behind a clean, empty plot of land overlooking the endless Pacific Ocean.
We didn't rebuild there. Instead, we packed our remaining belongings into a sturdy new truck, loaded up our camping gear, and pointed our compass toward the vast, open expanse of the American Northwest.
Nora sat in the passenger seat, wearing her favorite blue hoodie, holding a brand-new yellow duck keychain hanging from her backpack. She was humming softly to a song playing on the radio, her face relaxed, her eyes bright with the innocent curiosity of a six-year-old who knew she was safe.
I glanced in the rearview mirror as we crossed the state line, watching the misty evergreen forests recede into the distance.
My phone sat silent on the dashboard. No threatening calls. No encrypted satellite pings. No corrupt judges or fabricated psychiatric evaluations waiting around the corner.
May you like
Just the hum of the engine, the endless ribbon of highway stretching out before us, and the absolute certainty that no matter what shadows tried to creep out of the past, I would always be there to stand between my daughter and the dark.
We had survived the fire. We had reclaimed our lives. And the road ahead was entirely our own.
