Chapter One – Hannah
Hannah was starting over. Again.
She should be used to it by now. After all, she’d been doing it her whole life. That didn’t mean she liked it. Or that she didn’t want what most people seemed to find so easily... a place to call home, somewhere to set down roots.
When the job offer came through, even though it meant a move across country, hadn’t hesitated. Why would she? It was sensible and secure and exactly the kind of opportunity she’d learned to take without asking too many questions. She’d beat out stiff competition for the role as regional operations manager based in Slateford, overseeing restaurant systems rather than running a floor herself. It was a step forward. On paper, at least.
But somewhere between packing up her old life and driving across the country toward a new one, she’d begun to feel untethered.
Had she ever really been anchored anywhere?
Still, as the road curved and the mountains rose around her, she allowed herself a quiet thought she rarely indulged. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time she might find a home.
“Oh... shoot!”
She eased off the accelerator as she realized she’d missed the turn, rolled to a stop at the side of the road, and reached for her phone.
“No signal.”
No problem. Always have a backup plan.
This time, the backup plan was an old-school paper map. She’d learned to read them as a kid, spending hours poring over atlases and road guides, tracing routes to places she’d never been... places other kids visited with their families.
The map crinkled as she unfolded it across the steering wheel. The turn she’d missed would have kept her on the main highway, but this mountain road continued forward too, eventually connecting with another route that would still take her where she needed to go. It would add an hour, maybe two, but she’d built buffer time into the trip.
Hannah always did.
She glanced out at the towering peaks rising in the distance and ducked her head with a small, private smile.
Why not take the scenic route?
Decision made, she folded the map and set it on the passenger seat beside her phone. After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, she pulled back onto the road and continued toward her new life. Because the old one was gone. Packed up. Left behind.
She’d learned not to dwell on what couldn’t be changed. And maybe, just this time, she might find the kind of permanence she’d never quite allowed herself to believe was meant for her.
The road narrowed as she drove deeper into the mountains, trees pressing closer on either side. Clouds descended, shrouding the distant peaks and sliding down to meet her, turning the late summer afternoon into premature dusk. The mist softened the forest, blurring its edges, turning it into something otherworldly, but she found it peaceful rather than threatening.
Hannah switched on her headlights, reducing her speed as visibility shortened to a few car lengths ahead. Rain began to spatter against the windshield, the wipers clearing thin streaksbefore more drops blurred her view. Great. Hannah mentally adjusted her ETA. Bad weather meant slower driving, which meant... she shook her head.
No use overthinking it.
Just steady hands on the wheel, ease up on the gas, and keep moving forward. The way she always did.
The first bump came without warning, a hard jolt that sent her now-empty coffee thermos rolling from the cup holder. The second came immediately after... a lurching slide that had her gripping the wheel as the car veered toward the edge of the road. Hannah corrected smoothly, but something was wrong.
The steering felt heavy. Unresponsive.
She guided the car onto a narrow gravel shoulder and brought it to a stop, the rain now drumming steadily on the roof. When she cut the engine, the silence felt immediate and complete, broken only by the patter of raindrops and the soft tick of the cooling engine.
“Well,” she said into the quiet of the car. “That’s inconvenient.”
Hannah zipped her jacket and stepped out into the rain. She circled the car, assessing the damage. The rear passenger-side tire was completely flat, with the rim almost touching the ground.
She let out a sigh of relief. A blown tire was an easy fix.
She had a spare, of course. And she’d changed tires plenty of times before.
Popping the trunk, she set about organizing what she needed: a spare tire, a jack, and a wrench. The rain soaked quickly through her jacket, but she worked methodically, focusing on each step.
