My vision blurs, heart racing. “Then…what was it about?”
Constance moves closer, her hand reaching out to cradle my face. “Learning how to let go.”
I shake my head helplessly, tears falling freely now. A raw sob shakes my entire body, pouring out every ounce of grief I’ve held deep inside. “I don’t…I don’t know how.”
But even as I say it, even as I drown beneath the weight of my fear, I think of Levi. Of his smile, the gentle touch of his hands. The way his eyes softened whenever he looked at me…reallyseeing me like only he has. I think of the way my shadows chose him fully, wrapping around him in silent comfort, recognizing something I hadn’t yet.
I close my eyes, drawing in one long, ragged breath, my entire body trembling beneath the weight of my choice.
Maybe the scariest thing isn’t losing what I had.
Maybe it’s reaching for something real, knowing it could break me in ways I never imagined, but reaching anyway.
33
Levi
March in Stonevalenever fully commits, always caught between seasons.
The lingering frost of winter and the soft promise of spring. The ground beneath my feet is still firm with ice, but there’s a warmth in the air today, a gentle hint of what’s coming. It’s quiet here. The kind that feels like a held breath, as if the earth itself is cautiously anticipating the first signs of life, ready to bloom into something beautiful.
Standing at the edge of the empty field, I scan the bare dirt, the emptiness bursting with possibility and hope. My heart tightens with pride at the journey that brought us here. Messy and exhausting, but so, so worth it. When the funding vanished overnight, it felt like watching sand slip through my fingers, carrying every dream I’d hoped to build.
I never thought we’d get here again.
But my people rallied behind me.
Naomi, who refused to hear the wordno, and whose sheer stubbornness practically reshaped reality into giving us a second chance. Elijah, whose connections at the college helped find a pathwhen we thought there was none. Dominic, who kept us grounded, even when it seemed like everything was falling apart. They made sure this garden wasn’t just a dream, but a reality.
And damn, am I grateful. This town, these people…they’re everything. Without them, none of this would be happening.
I glance over at Naomi, who’s enthusiastically talking to volunteers, clipboard in hand, making sure everything’s running on schedule. People are showing up in droves, ready to give back and pour their hearts into something that will outlast us all.
The press, the volunteers, the families who have shown up to witness this moment…everything feels a little too loud, a little too big. But I push past it. Inhale, trying to steady my nerves. I’m ready, even if my shaky hands would lead you to believe otherwise. I take one last look at the plot of land before I step up to the podium, clear my throat, and begin.
“Thank you all for being here today,” I start. “I’ve spent my whole life in Stonevale. It’s my home, and it always will be. It’s a place that’s seen a lot of change over the years, like all small towns do. But what I’ve learned is that no matter how hard things get, this town never backs down. We come together. We support each other. And we fight for what matters.”
Heads nod in the crowd and I pause, letting the weight of what I’m trying to say settle.
“This garden…it’s not just a pretty place. It’s a place to growandto rest. A row for beginners, a quiet bench for remembering, a plot for every classroom that wants to learn with their hands. A space where we can connect with one another, where we can find peace and comfort. It’s a reminder that no matter how hard everything else may get, we have each other.”
Applause ripples through the crowd and my heart swells.
“I want to thank everyone who made today possible. For volunteering their time and energy to help me create somethingspecial.” And then, I add, “I do have to give a special thank-you to Naomi Kapoor, who, despite ‘just being an intern,’ has basically run my entire life for the past few months. Without her relentless determination, I can assure you we wouldn’t be standing here today. If anyone in Stonevale is hiring, this unstoppable force is your future. But fair warning: Losing her when this internship ends might literally kill me, so make sure the offer is too good to refuse. Anyway, let’s give a massive round of applause for Naomi,” I say, enthusiastically clapping in her direction.
Naomi ducks her head, visibly touched, and I catch the sheen of tears she quickly tries to blink away. She offers a small, genuine smile and a shy wave, and I hope she truly knows how invaluable she’s been. Not just to today and this project, but to me.
I take another deep breath and look out over the crowd, all the faces I’ve known my whole life, all of them ready to make something happen together.
“I want this garden to mean something deeper than just plants and soil. I hope it becomes a reminder of the power in community, the comfort in quiet moments, and the beauty in choosing each other even when life gets messy. I want it to be something lasting. Something worth fighting for.”
The crowd claps, and I feel the weight of it all. The pressure, the gratitude, the excitement. This is the start of something new, not just for me, but for Stonevale.
After my speech, the ribbon is cut with a flourish and the shovel digs into the earth with a satisfying crunch. I’m surrounded by a chorus of cheers, laughter, and the sounds of the crowd milling around, shaking hands, slapping backs. The press wants quotes. Volunteers want photos. I’m swept into the chaos of it all. It’s dizzying, overwhelming, and I love every second of the madness.
The crowd shifts, parting for a heartbeat, and the noise drops to a distant hum.
That’s when I see him.
