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The clerk at the front desk gave us a nod, recognizing the solemnity of our visit. “Fourth floor,” she said, her voice alow hum against the backdrop of shuffling papers and muted conversations.
The elevator dinged softly, and we ascended. The walls of the car were mirrors, reflecting our images back at us. Hayze’s bronze skin glowed even in the fluorescent light, his calm composure a stark contrast to the storm of emotions inside me.
The doors slid open to reveal a hallway leading to the judge’s chambers. I smoothed down my dress, a simple blue number that somehow was right for this moment—nothing too grand, nothing that spoke of the life I’d once known as Charlotte Bruno.
Judge Carter was waiting for us, his presence commanding yet kind. “Mr. Bronze and Ms. Rune,” he greeted us with a gentle smile that put me at ease. “We’re ready for you.”
The ceremony itself was brief—a string of words, vows, and promises that somehow seemed to stretch into eternity. Hayze’s voice was steady as he spoke his part, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I do,” I echoed when it was my turn, my voice stronger than I expected. The ring slid onto my finger—a simple band of metal that was like an anchor in this turbulent sea.
“You may kiss the bride,” Judge Carter announced, his words an invitation to seal this new chapter.
Hayze’s lips met mine in a kiss that was tender and fierce all at once—a promise in itself.
We left the judge’s chambers hand in hand—Arlet and Hayze Russel—our steps echoing through the hallways with a rhythm that matched our beating hearts.
Back at Matthews’ office, we presented him with our marriage license—a single piece of paper that held so much significance. His eyes scanned the document before looking up at us with what might have been a flicker of approval.
“Congratulations,” he said simply before setting into motion the machinery that would erase Arlet Rune from existence and cement Arlet Russel into reality.
He worked with an efficiency that left no room for error—phone calls made, databases updated, records sealed. And just like that, I was no longer a ghost haunted by my past—I was someone new yet again, but this time on my own terms.
Hayze stood beside me through it all, his presence a silent vow that he’d be there for whatever came next.
When Matthews finished, he handed me an ID card—my new identity staring back at me from its plastic confines. Arlet Russel—the name rolled right on my tongue as I whispered it to myself.
Agent Matthews slid a folder across the desk toward us, the contents inside neatly organized and waiting to be discovered. “Your new destination,” he said, a tone of finality in his voice.
I glanced at Hayze, whose bronze hand rested atop the folder. His touch conveyed a quiet strength that had become my foundation. He flipped it open, and together we peered inside.
“Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada,” I read aloud, the name rolling off my tongue with a mix of curiosity and excitement. I looked up at Matthews for confirmation.
“That’s right,” he confirmed with a nod. “It’s a place where you can truly start fresh—a balance between isolation and community.”
Hayze pulled out a photograph from the folder. It depicted a vast expanse of land where the forest met the sea, mountains towering in the distance like ancient guardians. The beauty I discovered was a striking difference from the urban environments I once lived.
“You’ll receive the deed to your land on the mainland,” Matthews continued, pointing to an area on the map included in our packet. “The location is ideal for living semi-off-grid. It offers both ocean and mountain views—a rarity.”
A thrill buzzed through me at the thought of such a place—our place. The concept of owning land, of having a permanent spot on this earth that was ours, was foreign, yet deeply alluring.
“We’ve arranged everything you need to get started,” Matthews said, closing the folder and leaning back in his chair. “You’ll have solar panels for power, a water catchment system, and enough supplies to last you through the initial settling period.”
Hayze’s eyes met mine, reflecting a shared sense of adventure. This wasn’t just another hideaway—it was an opportunity to build something together.
“When do we leave?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I envisioned our new life taking shape in this distant land.
“As soon as you’re ready,” Matthews replied. “You have new transportation to take you to your new home.”
I nodded, feeling the weight of years spent running, lifting from me. This was more than another relocation; it was a promise of stability and perhaps even happiness.
Hayze closed the folder with care and stood up. “We’re ready now,” he said firmly.
Matthews rose as well, extending his hand first to Hayze and then to me. “Good luck, Arlet... Bronze,” he corrected himself with a slight smile. “Take care of each other.”
We shook his hand, gratitude mingling with an eagerness to depart.
Leaving Matthews’ office behind shedded an old skin. We walked through the building with purposeful strides—each step taking us closer to our future.
