Viv:
The road turned golden before it turned blue.
I leaned my head against Knox's back as the sun climbed higher, filtering through the dusty glass and lighting the world like fire. It stretched across endless stretches of California highway—burnt hills, roadside fruit stands, and the occasional flash of wildflowers stubbornly blooming in cracks of dry earth.
And then, all at once, it was there.
The ocean.
Knox slowed his bike, pulling off to the right shoulder of a coastal turnout lined with weather-worn rails. His silhouette stood tall against the backdrop of sea and sky, leather vest fluttering faintly in the breeze like a flag. I parked the truck behind him, engine ticking as it cooled, and stepped out barefoot into the warm sand-strewn gravel.
The air smelled like freedom—salt
