Marcus loaded the last box into the car trunk, watching Elena double-check her packing list against the boxes already stacked in the back seat, eighteen years old now and radiating the particular nervous excitement of someone about to start college three hours from home.
"I think that's everything," Elena said, closing her checklist app. "Desk lamp, extra blankets, way too many books for one semester."
"Never too many books," Marcus said, closing the trunk. "Especially not for what you're studying."
They drove together through familiar streets, past the memorial station where everything had originally started, past Mrs. Hart's courtyard visible in the distance, the whole route feeling significant in ways that only they truly understood.
"Nervous?" Marcus asked, glancing at her in the p
