Page 56 of Buried Past

Ma's voice surfaced in my memory:"You're safe here, honey. You just don't know it yet."

I stood there with the hawk circling overhead like it had the right to witness whatever happened next. And for a breath—just one—I believed her. I believed safety could be a place. That it could circle above you and around you instead of chasing behind you.

Then the hawk banked hard and disappeared beyond the trees.

And the moment passed.

Matthew started the truck. I climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed. As we pulled away from the cabin, I watched it shrink in the side mirror until the trees swallowed it completely. The last thirty-six hours compressed into a warm, blended memory—coffee and conversation, family dinner, warm blankets, and the sound of Matthew's heartbeat against my ear.

I faced forward and began scanning the road ahead for threats. My brief experience of normalcy was over.

The first twenty minutes passed in near silence, only the steady hum of tires against asphalt. Two-lane roads curved through stands of Douglas fir, following the natural contours of hillsides that dropped away into valleys I couldn't see from the passenger seat.

When I spotted a blue Ford that might have been following us, Matthew took an unexpected right turn into a residential neighborhood, circling two blocks before rejoining the main route. "Clear?" he asked.

I rechecked the mirror—different cars now, regular spacing. "Clean." I glanced at Matthew. "That dinner affected me more than I expected."

"In what way?"

"Your family treated me like I was actually there. Not like a problem to solve or a threat to manage. Just... there. Part of the conversation."

"Because you were… there"

"I haven't belonged anywhere for ages." It was a straightforward confession. "Every identity I've worn and every place I've stayed has been temporary."

Matthew's right hand moved from the steering wheel to rest against my knee, thumb brushing the worn denim. "Ma claimed you the moment you walked through that door. That's how she operates—sees someone her son cares about and adds them to the family roster."

A half-smile appeared on my face. "Miles asked about my damage like it was a job interview question."

"Because in Miles's world, everyone has damage. The interesting part is how you handle it." Matthew's thumb traced a small circle against my leg. "You handled it like someone who belongs at that table."

The road began its descent toward civilization—traffic lights in the distance, strip malls, and gas stations announcing the edge of suburban sprawl. The forest fell away behind us, replaced by chain restaurants and storage facilities.

"I sat there listening to you all argue about Marcus's emergency preparedness obsession and Alex's latest coding project, and I forgot I was supposed to be dead for about ten minutes." I turned to look at Matthew's profile. "Never happened before."

"And last night?"

"Last night I wanted to stay. Not just until the heat died down or the operation concluded. I wanted to stay because I belonged there." My honesty startled me. "It's not what people like me get to want."

Matthew's hand tightened. "People like you?"

"People who've done what I've done." I watched traffic thicken as we approached a major intersection. "I've lost the right to everyday things like family dinners, inside jokes, and someone's mother worrying about whether they're eating enough vegetables."

"Ma doesn't see it that way."

"Ma doesn't know what I've done."

"Ma knows exactly what she needs to know." Matthew slowed for a red light. "She knows you're important to me, and she knows you're in trouble. She knows you need somewhere safe to land while you figure out what comes next."

"I'm not sure I know how to stay anywhere long enough to belong."

Matthew's hand moved from my knee to cover my fingers where they'd clenched against my leg. "Then maybe it's time to learn."

He offered hope. For the first time in years, it was stronger than my fear.

Traffic density increased as strip malls gave way to residential streets lined with identical ranch houses and manicured lawns. Soccer fields appeared between developments, dotted with tiny figures chasing balls.

Then I saw it.

---