Chapter 25
CHAPTER 26: The Horizon
A year to the day the firm opened.
The office was quiet again, but this time, it was the quiet of a Saturday evening. The files on Marcus’s case—now a multi-million dollar settlement that had forced sweeping industry reforms—were neatly archived in the back room.
New files sat on the desk. New fights. New battles.
I found Sarah on the small balcony attached to her office.
She had a glass of wine in her hand, watching the city lights flicker to life as the sun dipped below the skyline. She was wearing her favorite charcoal suit, the jacket off, her sleeves rolled up.
I stepped out into the cool evening air and clinked my glass against hers.
"Happy anniversary, counselor," I said.
"Happy anniversary," she replied, taking a sip.
She looked down at the street. People were rushing home, tiny figures moving through the twilight.
"Do you ever miss it?" I asked.
She turned her head. "Miss what?"
"Before," I said gently. "Before everything changed. Before Vance. Before the leg."
Sarah leaned against the railing. She looked down at her right side, tapping the metal pylon thoughtfully with a finger.
"Sometimes," she admitted quietly. "I miss the ease of it. I miss waking up and just walking without thinking about it. I miss feeling the grass under both my feet."
She looked back up at me, the city lights reflecting in her dark eyes.
"But I don't miss the woman I was. She was naive. She didn't know what she was capable of surviving."
She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine, just as she had done on the courthouse steps a year ago. Her grip was warm, strong, and certain.
"This," she said, gesturing to the office behind us, to the city in front of us, and to the space between us. "This is worth it. Every phantom pain. Every stumble. It bought me this."
I squeezed her hand.
"Then we keep walking."
"We keep walking," Sarah agreed.
She turned her gaze back to the horizon.
There would be other Vances. There would be other storms, other uphill battles, and days where the weight of the past felt heavy.
But standing beside her in the glow of the city, I knew it didn't matter.
May you like
The devil’s house was burned. The blank canvas was filling up.
And as the city hummed around us, her stride remained entirely, beautifully unbroken.
