Chapter 2
Chapter Two
DETOUR OF DESTINY
Maya
The open road and a good playlist fix a lot of things—restlessness, heartbreak, and the undeniable urge to scream into the void about my crappy ex-boyfriend.
I grip the steering wheel and take a deep breath. No screaming today. You’re better than that.
The Florida humidity is finally behind me, and now I’m somewhere between the Midwest and wherever the universe needs me to be next . I don’t always have a set destination— Sagittarius moon problems —but when I get that feeling —a tug in my gut, a whisper in my bones telling me to move—I listen.
Maybe it’s intuition. Maybe it’s my spirit guides sending me cosmic breadcrumbs. Or maybe it’s the lingering irritation of having my savings stolen by a guy who thought “investing” meant using my money to print ugly T-shirts for his groundbreaking new brand.
(Newsflash, Trevor: Nobody wants to buy a shirt that just says Vibes? in Comic Sans.)
Beside me, curled up in his favorite spot on the passenger seat, Mr. Belvedere flicks his tail, unimpressed with my continued ranting.
“I know, I know,” I sigh, glancing at him. “I’m harping. But I have every right. He stole from me, Lynn Aloysius Belvedere.”
Mr. Belvedere does not dignify this with a response. He is a cat of many opinions, but right now, they seem to be: Drive the van, woman. The road is calling.
I reach over, scratching between his ears, and refocus on the scenery ahead. The stretch of highway before me is quiet, the kind of road where the sky opens wide and the land rolls endlessly. A good place for clearing thoughts. A good place to receive .
I pass a road sign. Five miles outside of Avalon Vale.
The name catches my eye on a roadside sign. Everyone knows Avalon Vale. It’s exclusive. Mysterious. The kind of place that’s invitation-only, which makes it ten times more intriguing. I’ve heard whispers of it—hidden mountain retreats, untouched nature, a town full of secrets.
Maybe one day I’ll get to see it.
For now? Pie.
The Bluebird Diner is straight out of a cozy small-town fantasy—checkered floors, soft yellow lighting, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee thick in the air.
I slide into a booth, pulling out my journal as I wait for my order. I jot down a few notes—thoughts on the stretch of mountains I passed earlier, how they felt like they were calling to me.
It’s something I believe in. Energy, fate, the way the universe guides you exactly where you need to be— if you’re open to it.
A waitress with soft brown curls and a name tag that says Rita approaches with a warm smile. “Done with that, hon?” She nods at my empty plate.
I set my pen down. “Yeah, thanks. That was amazing. Best grilled cheese I’ve had all week.”
Rita’s expression turns sly. “All week , huh? You a traveler?”
I nod. “Van life. Just me, my cat, and the open road.”
That earns an approving nod. “You write about it?”
I grin. “Yeah. Sometimes fiction, sometimes essays. Mostly just chasing stories wherever I find them.”
“Well,” she says, leaning against the counter, “if you’re looking for a real story, you should check out Avalon Vale.”
I blink. “Isn’t that place, like… impossible to get into?”
“Not anymore.” Rita pulls out her phone and taps a few times before turning it toward me. “They just started doing online visitor applications. Only takes a few minutes. You should try it.”
I hesitate. “You think they’d approve me ?”
Rita leans in conspiratorially. “They’re trying to bring in more humans. The town’s got a good thing going, but they need people who want to be part of it. You’re a traveler, a writer, and from what I can tell, you’re open to adventure. Sounds like just their type.”
I glance at the screen. Avalon Vale Tourism & Visitor Integration.
The universe is definitely sending me breadcrumbs.
I type in my information—name, background, reason for visiting ( I skip “because the vibes told me to” and go with “exploration and writing” ). I hit submit just as Rita sets down a slice of chocolate pie and a fresh cup of coffee in front of me.
“On the house,” she says with a wink.
By the time I take my second bite, my phone vibrates.
Welcome to Avalon Vale. Your visitor access has been approved.
I skim the email—check-in instructions, lodging options, and a note about upcoming special events.
Huh. That was fast .
“Well?” Rita prompts, grinning.
I slide her a generous tip before grabbing my keys. “Guess I’ve got a new stop on my trip.”
Avalon Vale, here I come.