บท 29: The Ambush

Exhaling, I shut the door of the taxi and walk up my parent's drive. I peer up at the orange and red sunset as it casts a warm, beautiful glow over my parent's one-story house. I can't help but inhale the cool, Portland air and smile as I open the familiar white gate, stepping through to the rocky pathway. Pebbles crunch beneath my feet, a sensation forgotten once the smell of shepherd's pie and roast vegetables wafts up my nose.

I walk along the pathway and stomp up the wooden stairs and across the porch. I knock on the door and wait. A heartbeat later, Mom is ripping the door open and beaming widely at me.

"Darling!" she greets, pulling me into a hug that smells of basil and salt. "You know you don't have to knock here."

I bury my face in her short, chocolate curls as I hug her back. "I know."