Chapter 12 - I Went Back to Blackthorn Hill
Nine months after the crash, I returned to the road.
Dad drove.
Reyes followed in another vehicle, not because I needed protection anymore but because he'd become a friend.
I asked Dad to stop before the third bend.
The guardrail had been replaced.
Someone had left flowers nearby.
Probably strangers who knew the story from the news.
I got out.
Slowly.
Cane first.
Left foot.
Right foot.
My legs would never be exactly the same.
The doctors had stopped promising that.
But they worked.
They carried me.
That was enough.
I walked to the guardrail.
Below us, trees covered the ravine.
Dad stayed back.
I appreciated that.
I took Mom's letter from my pocket.
I didn't leave it there.
It belonged with me.
Instead, I placed one white lily against the rail.
Vivian had brought lilies to the hospital.
For months, I hated them because of her.
I decided she didn't get to own those either.
“Mom,” I whispered.
The wind moved through the trees.
“I found Dad.”
My voice cracked.
“He's annoying.”
Behind me, Dad said, “I can hear you.”
I smiled.
“He's really annoying.”
Reyes laughed from the car.
I touched the guardrail.
“You saved me.”
Then I corrected myself.
“You kept saving me.”
Her notebook.
Her letters.
Her evidence.
Her cottage.
Her voice.
Mom had built bridges into a future she knew she might never see.
I turned around.
And walked back uphill.
That mattered.
Uphill.
Every step hurt.
Every step belonged to me.
At the top, Dad opened the passenger door.
I shook my head.
“I'll drive.”
He stared at me.
“You sure?”
“No.”
That was precisely why I needed to.
My license had been medically cleared the week before.
I slid behind the wheel.
My hands shook.
I started the engine.
Dad fastened his seat belt with theatrical seriousness.
“Not helping.”
“Sorry.”
I drove slowly.
When we reached the first curve, my chest tightened.
Second.
I breathed.
Third.
I pressed the brake.
The car stopped smoothly.
I laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
May you like
And drove home.
---
