Page 78 of The Song We Lost

Rachel worked her magic and got me on a redeye flight. I watched September bleed into October somewhere over the Canadian border, the darkness outside the plane swallowing the last of summer whole. I watched it happen, forehead pressed to the window, feeling like I was crossing more than just a line on a map. My mind has been a jumbled mess of worst-case scenarios since Cole called.

Sadie needs you.

We need you.

The words have replayed on a loop, layered over the low hum of the engines, over the flight attendant’s polite instructions, over the soft snoring of strangers who get to sleep because their world hasn’t tilted.

Everyone is ok.

The baby is ok.

That has been my internal mantra for hours. I repeat it when the landing gear drops. When the wheels hit the runway harder than I expected. When my hands won’t stop shaking long enough to pull my phone from my pocket. I am jumpy when we taxi. Flinching at nothing. Hoping no one recognizes me because I am definitely not myself right now. No makeup. No armour. No smile ready.

Rachel promised she’d buy me time with the label while I sorted out whatever was happening at home. She said it calmly.Like it was manageable. Like we weren’t balancing contracts and timelines against something unnamed and terrifying.

Everyone is ok.

The baby is ok.

I had a car arranged to drive me home. I didn’t tell anyone at the compound when I was landing, not sure what was happening there, not sure what I was walking into.

The driver doesn’t speak much, he’s professional in all the ways I appreciate right now. The city fades quickly behind us. Concrete softens into fields. The mountains rise in the distance like they always have, steady, indifferent. The drive from the city to the mountains feels so different than the last time I was home. The last time, I still had a sliver of hope that Luke would show up for me. That he would walk into a room and choose me the way he used to. That I wasn’t the only one still gripping the rope of a marriage already frayed through.

Months later, I know better. I know I will have to come to terms with my feelings. I know I will have to push my lawyer to get a response from Luke. I know I will eventually have to untangle what’s left of us. But I need to get home first.

The closer we get to the property, the heavier the feeling in my gut becomes. It spreads outward, into my ribs, up my throat. The worse the worry and panic.

We finally got here.Got to this moment where everyone can be together. Where two of the houses are finished, two more are being built, and the barns are full of activity, the orchard is producing, and the future feels solid.

This can’t…

Everyone will be ok.

Sadie is ok.

The roads wind, and we start the climb to where I know the property will come into view any minute. My pulse pounds in my ears. The sky is starting to lighten, the first streaks of sunrisebreaking over the mountains. The light is almost offensively bright, for what’s twisting inside me. We crest over into the flat land where our compound settles, and the view steals my breath like it always does. Green is giving way to orange, red, and yellow. The trees look like they’re on fire. The fields are golden now, not summer green. The apple orchards are alive, bins full of fruit.

They’ve been busy.

I feel tears slipping down my cheeks before I realize I’m crying. I don’t wipe them away, I let them fall while I stare at the sun rising over a blanket of fall colours so beautiful it almost hurts to look at. I don’t know if the tears are for Luke, the anxiety clawing up my spine, or the exhaustion that has settled into my bones after months of performing, smiling, and being exactly who everyone needs me to be. Or for the possibility that everything I built might not be enough.

I messaged Cole as soon as I got through security, letting him know when to expect me.

We pull into the long drive, and the gravel crunches under the tires. My anxiety ratchets up with every foot closer to the houses.

Sadie is ok.

The baby is ok.

We drive past the common areas. One of the work barns is full of activity, doors thrown wide open. I see Thomas step out, wiping his hands on a rag. He squints toward the car, then grabs an ATV and follows behind us.

Is he following because he wants to see me? Or because it’s bad and he feels like he needs to be there when I find out?

Sadie needs you.

Is Cole ok? Is something wrong with him? Is that why she needs me?

The car stops outside Sadie and Cole’s house and I immediately see Noah waiting on the porch.