But something holds me tight, won’t let me go.
Back to her arms, back to her embrace,
Caught in this endless, motionless chase.
So I go on and on and on,
Lost in the echoes of a love that’s gone,
and I go on and on and on,
In the shadows of the love we’ve drawn
She’s the ache in every sigh,
The tear that falls from my eye.
Can’t quite shake her from my soul,
Her memory’s a never-ending toll.
I thought I moved on, thought I found my peace,
But her ghostly presence, it just won’t cease.
Pulls me back in, like a tide to shore,
Lost in this cycle, craving something more.
I closed the book and put it back in my pillowcase.Ihadto get some sleep if was going to be worth anything during tomorrow’s runs.
* * *
The weeks turned into months and losing refugees took its toll on me, mentally and physically.I was drained and really looking forward to getting back home and spending a day on the beach, doing absolutely nothing.We’re heading back to the states in two days, but before I can make it there, I have one big mission left: fly through a narrow ridgeline where an active threat has been identified and neutralize it without being detected.I have a window of one minute, forty-five seconds; it’s tight, but I’ve done it in simulation at least thirty times and I think I’ve got it.
My heart was racing the entire time, adrenaline on fire, sweat dripping into my eyes, but I made it through with three seconds to spare and flew back to camp undetected.We all celebrated theWwith cold beer and loud music.I slipped out of the party and collapsed onto my bunk.The only thing I wanted to celebrate now was my return home.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ELLIE
8 years earlier
My heart beatagainst the inside of my chest so hard that I gasped for air a couple times as I picked up the pen.I was sitting at a table next to my realtor about to sign the final paper transferring ownership of a 1921 Victorian farmhouse from the state of Virginia to me.
* * *
Before Dylan was born, I quit my part-time job atPizza Ramaand when the time came to start working again, I opted for my first office job; a receptionist at an interior design company.The hours were easier to manage, and they allowed me to work from home a few times a week to save on childcare costs.When I wasn’t able to work from home, my boss was nice enough to let me bring Dylan into the office.She set up a small nursery in one of the unused conference rooms for me and said I could use it anytime I needed to.She was a young mom herself and intimately knew the struggles of keeping a job and raising a baby.It was one of the reasons she hired me; I don’t think she took pity on me, but she wanted to give me a chance since no one had given her that type of opportunity when she was in my shoes.
I saved every penny I could, putting at least half of every paycheck into my savings account and using the other half to help with bills at Dad’s house.Fortunately, Dad allowed me to stay at home and raise the baby, so I didn’t have to pay rent somewhere while I saved.I worked my butt off for nine years and managed to climb the ladder in the interior decorating world, quickly making my way from receptionist to one of the top designers on the East coast.I travelled up and down the coast frequently for high end jobs, bringing Dylan along every time.My goal was to save up enough money to buy my dream house – I had my eye on it for as long as I could remember – an abandoned property about thirty minutes from Dad’s house.
* * *
Once the meeting with my realtor had ended and I was in possession of the keys to my dream house, I happily skipped down the sidewalk to mystore front design shop like a little girl.The smile stayed glued tomy face for the rest of the afternoon until I clicked off themonitor and closed the shop.I grabbed the keys to my old ‘97 Chevy Cavalier from my purse and headed to the parent pickup line at Oakhaven Elementary School.
I was still smiling when Dylan threw open the passenger side door and flopped down into the seat, backpack still strapped over his shoulders.
“Hey, Mom.”he said coolly.
