Love, After Dark

Chapter 10

The drive to Redhaven took eight hours, but time stopped meaning much after the first three. At first, I kept track of everything. The mile markers, the exits, the familiar road names slowly giving way to ones I’d never heard before. Millburn faded behind us, and with it the comfort of knowing exactly where we were at all times. The car felt packed with pieces of our life, every suitcase a reminder that this wasn’t temporary.

We crossed state lines without ceremony, the welcome signs flashing past the window too quickly to feel real. Flat farmland stretched for miles, golden and endless, broken only by rusted barns and distant silos. Later, the land rose and folded into hills, the air seeming to change as trees grew thicker, darker, crowding closer to the road. We stopped a few times along the way to stretch our legs and relieve our bladders, but the drive seemed endless.

Sia fell asleep somewhere along the way, her head pressed to the glass, breath steady. My mom drove with quiet focus, the radio humming low, her fingers tightening around the wheel whenever traffic thickened. I watched the world pass, letting the motion numb me. When the skyline finally appeared, it didn’t feel earned. It rose suddenly, sleek and towering against the sky, glass and stone catching the sunlight in a way that felt intentional, like the city wanted to be admired. A large stone sign emerged from perfectly trimmed hedges just off the highway.

WELCOME TO REDHAVEN

The lettering was deep and elegant, carved to last. The city opened up around us almost immediately. Wide streets curved smoothly, lined with towering buildings that looked more like sculptures than offices or apartments. Everything was immaculate. Even the sidewalks seemed newer than the ones we’d just left behind.

We passed a sprawling park at the city’s center, where a massive fountain sprayed water high into the air, lit from below in soft white and gold. Flowers surrounded it in neat patterns, vibrant and flawless, as if no one ever let them wilt. “Is this a park or a palace?” Sia murmured. I hadn’t noticed she had awakened until then. Luxury homes sat behind iron gates, ivy climbing their stone walls, while modern buildings rose nearby, just as impressive. Ponds shimmered beside the road, reflecting the sky so clearly they looked unreal, dotted with benches that no one seemed to sit on.

Mom slowed the car, eyes darting. “How does anyone afford to live here?” People passed us on the sidewalks- polished, confident, expensive. They walked like they knew they belonged, like the city had been built with them in mind. “Everyone looks rich,” Sia whispered. “Not just rich,” I said. “Born-rich.” Mom laughed, but it sounded unsure. “Your father must really love this job.”

We turned onto a quieter street, the noise of the city fading behind us. Tall hedges lined the road, flowering trees arching overhead, their branches forming a natural canopy. The houses were spaced far apart, elegant but restrained, each one distinct yet perfectly placed. When the car finally stopped, my chest tightened. Mom turned off the engine and looked at us. “We’re here.” And for the first time since leaving Millburn, I felt the weight of it settle in.