Epilogue
The midday sun beams down on me as I load the last of the boxes into the moving truck.
After months of snow and frigid temperatures, I’m grateful for the onset of spring, though I’ll miss the days of lying by the fireplace, forced to stay inside with the snow piling around the house and insulating us from the outside world.
The months of near-isolation, when we only went out to gather groceries and only had company from Elias’ occasional visits, were filled with deep conversations, particularly about the future.
“Care to go for one more walk?” Ambrose appears behind me with a box in hand labeled “Books.” It’s one of the dozen boxes of books we’re bringing with. The others will remain here, waiting for our return, whether it be a few years or a few decades from now. Only time will tell.
“Of course,” I answer, slipping my hand into Ambrose’s as we walk down the familiar path through the woods, teeming with life as spring awakens the mountains once again.
The church comes into view, but we don’t head for the entrance. I walk with Ambrose around the back to the small graveyard, where we approach the headstone that bears his last name. He sits on the dewy grass, and I follow suit.
“I’m leaving,” Ambrose says softly, speaking to the woman who’s buried beneath the stone.
“And I don’t know if you’re out there listening, but I wanted to let you know.
I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’m doing what you always asked of me—I’m living fully.
And I’ve found love.” He squeezes my hand.
I return the gesture, then stand slowly. “I’ll let you have a few minutes,” I tell him. It’s a bittersweet moment, and while I know he doesn’t mind me being there, it only feels right to give him some time alone to say goodbye.
He nods, and I meander around the church before deciding to go inside one last time.
The bright sunshine streams through the stained glass windows, casting fractured, jewel-toned beams of light across the wooden pews. Nothing has changed within these walls, but they carry the ghosts of what transpired that night when I almost lost Ambrose, and he almost lost me.
But here, in the warm daylight, it doesn’t feel quite so ominous. It holds the memories, but they all seem like a distant past, something far behind us.
I wave my hand in a slow, intentional motion, focusing my energy on the candles still strewn about the room. One by one, they flicker to life, flames appearing from thin air. The pocket watch, now on a necklace chain, warms against my chest with the magic.
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 consider other 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 is bittersweet, 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, because it’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
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