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“Thank you, Dad.”
Her father nodded and turned back to his computer as she showed herself out. She walked to her car, staring at the plane ticket blankly.
THIRTY-TWO
HAMMER
Hammer stood in the middle of his newly-finished home, wiping the sweat from his brow. He admired the log walls and wooden-plank flooring he had put together and the stained-glass windows he had made from breathing fire onto nearby sand from the beach of a lake.
He smiled and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. The cabin had been a tiresome feat, but he had everything he wanted. Well, almost everything.
The furniture had been bought from a small thrift shop just down the mountain, but it was everything he needed. He took his glass of water to the window and stared at the mountain range. This land was vast and unpopulated, perfect for flying whenever he felt like it.
He turned the glass around in his hand, watching the reflection of the sun’s rays on the glass. He looked around the room again and tried to find something needing to be fixed. The wood was flawless, the windows were set perfectly, and both the doors had greased hinges.
Realizing he had reached his peak performance as an architect, Hammer sat on his couch and sipped his water. He thought of his life in prison, the dream that one day he would have everything he had now.
No more using the bathroom in front of correctional officers, drama stemming from so-called friends, or rejected marriage proposals. He felt safe in this cabin in the woods, as if he was miles away from any potential hardship that could overcome him.
The nights passed with fires in the fireplace and gazing at the stars. He named every constellation on his own, given he had never studied them. The days were filled with hunting and exploring nearby caves, streams, and valleys.
A map was created and hung on his living room wall. Every day, he added another region to the map, trying to make a bird’s-eye view of his forever home. It became a friend, a daily ritual that kept him sane.
One day, a large rainstorm hit the mountain. He stayed inside, enjoying the leftover venison he had collected the day before. A drop of water hit his head, and he rolled his eyes, putting down the venison steak.
That was when it hit him. The cabin would never be perfect, a new flaw would always appear, and he would always have something to fix, but that would never fill this void in his chest.
The missing piece to his home was Charlie. The way she laughed, the sparkle in her eyes, and her determined and fiery attitude. It hit his body like a ton of bricks, and every nerve tingled throughout his body. He knew he had to do something.
Hammer sighed and shook his head before dashing to the front door and out into the rain. He screamed as he shifted, throwing his hands to the sides and baring his chest to the elements.
His horns and wings sprouted, and he roared into the abyss of the mountain range before taking flight, leaving his broken homestead behind.
* * *
The tailornext to Mr. Jackson’s office carried his suit size. He adjusted his new tie and walked out of the store into the city, luckily graced with sunlight instead of rain.
He breathed in deeply before entering Mr. Jackson’s office, knocking firmly on the door.
“Come in!” he heard the familiar voice yell.
Hammer entered with his shoulders squared and chin held high. “Mr. Jackson,” he greeted, walking into the office and standing before him.
“Hammer Vykovsky,” Mr. Jackson said, motioning for Hammer to sit in one of his chairs.
“No, thank you,” Hammer politely declined, holding his stance.
Mr. Jackson laughed. “I was wondering what took you so long.”
His response shocked Hammer. He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows, inhaling as if he was going to respond, but he couldn’t find the words. Mr. Jackson leaned forward on his desk.
“Sit, Hammer,” he demanded.
Hammer gulped and adjusted his tie, taking a seat.
Mr. Jackson sighed, clasping his hands. “I know you love my daughter,” he began seriously. “And I know she loves you too.”
Hammer’s head snapped up, and hope flowed through his chest. “What?”
