Page 107 of Liminal

Now that I’ve gained Samuel’s powers—and life—Elias has been instructing me on the ways Samuel had used them, and I’ve been practicing whenever I have the chance. The abilities seem endless the more I practice them and considerother ways to wield them. Who knew that light could be manipulated in so many different ways?

“Having fun?” Ambrose asks, leaning against the open door frame.

I grin. “Just practicing. Are you ready?”

He nods, and I wave my hand again, forcing the flames to die as quickly as I brought them to life.

When we reach the clearing back at the cabin, Elias waves from where he sits on the porch. “I was wondering where you guys went!” he shouts.

“In a hurry?” I tease when we reach him.

“Just ready to hit the road. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

It’s true—our move will take us about 2,500 miles, to a home we’ve found in the Cascade Mountains. When we had traveled to the northwestern part of the country before winter fully descended here, I had immediately fallen in love with Washington state. The mountains hold a different sort of vastness there, towering into the sky and covered in verdant pine forests, while the Appalachians are an ancient, rolling sea of slopes.

I hadn’t wanted to ask Ambrose to move away from this house he loves so much, but he had suggested it when he saw how awe-stricken I was on our trip. He had reassured me that no matter what, the cabin would remain here and would always be his true home no matter how long we stayed elsewhere.

We step across the threshold of the house, checking the rooms one last time to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. It’s a strange sight, seeing the cabin so bare. Even though some of the furniture remains, including most of the bookshelves and the books lining them, the half-emptiness isbittersweet, a reflection of the ephemeral stages of life. One chapter ending, and another just beginning.

Once we can stall no longer, we leave the house, and the sound of Ambrose’s key turning in the lock clicks with a melancholy finality.

But it’s not for forever, I remind myself.

Elias takes the keys to the Camaro while Ambrose and I climb into the high seats of the moving truck.

“How are you feeling?” Ambrose asks as we sit in the silence.

“Excited, hopeful, a little sad to be leaving,” I answer honestly. Leaving here is more than just a physical move. It’s a representation of the end of my old life and the start of my new one. A life where I will have the power to make choices for myself and become the woman I want to be. I’ll be reshaping my identity, metaphorically and literally. After killing Joel, I was listed as a suspect, but my disappearance made it impossible for the police to find me thus far, and I plan on making it even more difficult by changing my last name—my last tie to Joel. We haven’t figured out all the details of getting around the legal system, but Elias claims to have some connections that may be able to help us.

When Elias pulls the Camaro in front of us and gives us a thumbs up, we return the gesture, and Ambrose starts the truck. It rumbles to life beneath us, and as we pull out of the driveway, I glance back at the cabin disappearing into the trees. In a matter of months, it has become the home I never thought I’d have. Now, it will be a memory until we return again.

The road stretches before us, dipping into the horizon, and a strange sense of anticipation wells in my chest. For the first time in my life, the unknown doesn’t scare me, becauseit’s a path I’ve chosen. Like Ambrose had told me months ago—we have nothing but time.

I am safe, I am happy, and I am loved.

And that’s all I’ve ever really needed.

“Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”

—Rainer Maria Rilke

The End