[Day 58 – Café Bookstore 6:42 PM]

  Isis stood behind the counter, hands trembling slightly as she slid her resignation letter across the counter to her manager. The older woman blinked, then met Isis’s eyes with a look of quiet understanding.

  Manager: “Starting fresh?”

  Isis: “Something like that.”

  There wasn’t much else to say. After all these years drifting, sleeping in her car, making just enough to survive—this was the first time Isis had the chance to live.

  She stepped outside as the sun started dipping behind the clouds. The air smelled like rain and roasted coffee beans, and for once, she felt something like hope.

  [Day 60 – 3:14 PM In her car]

  The email confirmation buzzed on her phone: One-way ticket to London. April 15th. 10:45 PM departure.

  She stared at it for a long time. No return date. No safety net.

  Isis tucked her knees to her chest in the driver’s seat of her car and let out a soft ugh. It didn’t feel real yet.

  She texted Jasper:

  Isis: Bought the ticket. Two weeks. I’m really coming.

  Jasper: I’m counting the days. You’ve got this. We’ve got this.

  She looked out at the overcast sky of Oregon, the town that had watched her grieve and grow in the shadows.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  A new life was waiting.

  [Day 80 – Portnd International Airport 9:02 PM]

  The airport was a blur of blinking lights and low voices. Isis held her backpack tightly against her chest, her one suitcase bumping along behind her. Every few minutes, she checked to make sure her passport and boarding pass were still in her hoodie pocket, as if they might vanish.

  Her heart was beating so hard it felt like a warning—like her body was confused by the idea of leaving everything behind.

  She sent Jasper a photo of her gate and a message:

  Isis: Boarding soon. I’m shaking.

  Jasper: You’re doing it, I’ll be waiting.

  She tucked her phone away, blinked back tears, and walked toward her new life.

  [Day 81 – Heathrow Airport, London 4:58 PM Local Time]

  Isis stepped off the pne to the smell of rain and cold recycled air. Heathrow was bigger and louder than anything she’d experienced. Her bones ached, her eyes stung from ck of sleep, and her heart was racing.

  Then she saw the sign.

  “ISIS BLACKWOOD”

  Held by a woman in her te 40s with silver streaks in her bck hair and piercing gray eyes—so much like her mother’s. Her name was Eleanor, and when their eyes met, Isis froze in pce.

  The woman dropped the sign.

  Eleanor: “You look just like her.”

  And suddenly, Isis was being wrapped into a tight, tearful hug.

  No one had hugged her like that in years.

  She didn’t know what to say. She just stood there, gripping Eleanor’s coat like she was afraid if she let go, it would all disappear.

  [Later that Night – New Ft South London]

  The apartment Eleanor had helped arrange was small but beautiful—clean, warm, filled with light. There were fresh linens on the bed, tea in the kitchen, a tiny window that looked over a gray street below.

  Isis stood in the center of it and whispered, “This is mine.”

  She hadn’t slept in a bed that was hers in years.

  Her phone buzzed.

  Jasper: Welcome to London, Bckwood. Ready to see me soon?

  Isis: So ready.

  [Day 83 – 1:17 PM South London Ft]

  The city outside was humming with soft rain and distant traffic. Isis sat cross-legged on her bed, her ptop open but forgotten, her thoughts miles away. The past few days had been a whirlwind—unpacking, getting to know Eleanor and other family members, walking through unfamiliar streets that somehow felt like they’d been waiting for her.

  But her mind kept drifting back to him.

  To Jasper.

  They hadn’t seen each other in person yet. All the video calls, te-night chats, whispered confessions—it had all led to this.

  Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, then she finally texted him:

  Isis: Okay, Ashbourne. I’m settled in. Met everyone. You free soon?

  Jasper: You’re really here.

  Isis: Told you I would be.

  Jasper: How’s tomorrow? I want the first time I see you to be… slow. Not rushed.

  Isis: You’re gonna lose it when you see how tiny I am in person.

  Jasper: I already lose it just hearing your voice.

  Isis grinned, her heart thudding.

  Jasper: Tomorrow. 1 PM. There’s a spot not far from you—quiet cafe, used books, the works. Thought it might remind you of home.

  Isis: You remembered.

  Jasper: I remember everything about you.

  She rolled onto her back and clutched the pillow to her chest, letting the butterflies take over. After everything they’d been through, every broken piece between them—

  Tomorrow, they’d finally stand face to face.