Chapter 10 - Sunrise and Steel
Time heals, but it also fortifies.
Three years passed. The past—Olivia, Julian, my parents—had completely faded into obscurity. The last I heard, Olivia was working retail in a strip mall, and my parents had relocated to a tiny trailer park in a different state, entirely erased from the upper-class world they had so desperately clung to.
I never checked on them. I never cared to.
It was Thanksgiving morning. But this time, I wasn't holding a cold cup of coffee in a hostile kitchen.
I was standing on the expansive balcony of my Vanguard penthouse, watching the sunrise paint the mountains in strokes of gold and violet. The air was crisp, but the heated floors beneath my bare feet kept the cold entirely at bay.
Inside, the smell of fresh pancakes and warm syrup filled the air.
"Mommy!"
I turned. Little Michael, three years old and full of boundless energy, ran onto the balcony holding a toy helicopter. Behind him, Captain Elias—who had become a permanent fixture in our lives, a fiercely loyal uncle and guardian—was laughing, trying to catch him.
I knelt down, catching my son as he crashed into my arms. He smelled like maple syrup and sleep.
"Look, Mommy! It's flying!" Michael giggled, zooming the helicopter over my head.
"It sure is, baby," I smiled, kissing his cheek.
I stood up, holding my son on my hip, and looked out over the horizon. I wore a heavy, oversized Army fleece—Michael’s fleece. But I didn't wear it like a shroud of grief anymore. I wore it like armor.
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They had tried to bury me in the dark. They hadn't realized I was a seed.
I held my son tight, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, knowing that the empire I had built from the ashes was utterly, beautifully unbreakable.
