Boone:Where are you?
I hesitate, deciding not to overthink it.
Jane:Clover Canyon. Indoors. Warm. Alive.
Boone:Define “indoors.”
Jane:Walls. A roof. Zero wildlife encounters so far.
Weston:So far?
Another pause. Longer this time.
Caleb:Do you need us to come get you?
The question lands heavier than all the jokes combined.
I stare at the screen until the letters blur, then breathe out slowly.
Jane:No. I just need a little space. I’m safe. I swear.
A few seconds pass.
Weston:Okay.
Just that. No argument. No follow-up interrogation.
Boone:But you check in. Or I’m driving to Clover Canyon to find you.
Jane:Please don’t.
Boone:No promises.
Caleb:Call if you need anything. Any time. We’re not going anywhere.
My throat tightens. I swallow hard because crying five minutes after arriving feels inappropriate.
Jane:I know. Love you.
The replies come in fast.
Boone:Miss you already. Kitchen’s too quiet.
Weston:Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, which leaves a lot of options.
Caleb:Love you. Proud of you.
I stare at Caleb’s message for a long moment:Proud of you.He's never said that before, not like that.
I set the phone face down on the dresser and sit on the edge of the bed, breathing through the ache until it dulls.
I didn’t run from them; I just needed to discover who I was without their support. Or perhaps I needed to understand who I am when I’m not holding them together.
Outside the window, snow drifts quietly across the field, untouched and endless.
For the first time since I left Tangle Creek, I allow myself to feel the possibility instead of fear or guilt. The terrifying, exhilarating possibility that I might be okay on my own, that I might be enough without having to earn it.
I stand, roll my shoulders, and start unpacking. Because whatever this is, I’m here now, and I’m not disappearing into it.
