CHAPTER 13: SHADOWS ON THE ROAD
The first week of true peace felt like drawing a full breath after holding it for years.
I woke up every morning not to cold silence or sharp commands, but to the weight of Kael’s arm slung heavy and warm over my waist, the faint rumble of his breathing against my shoulder, sunlight slanting through the cabin windows. We ate breakfast around the long wooden table in the mess hall, laughing over burnt toast and terrible jokes. I helped the mechanics strip and rebuild engines in the yard, my hands stained with grease and oil, and spent evenings sitting on the porch watching the sun dip blood‑red behind the pine‑covered mountains. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like a runaway, a guest, or a survivor. I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.
