Chapter 26: The Road Away from Home

The train lurched forward, its wheels grinding against the worn steel tracks, carrying Eleanor further and further from Braemar with every passing second. She sat by the window, her fingers resting lightly on the cool glass, watching the rolling hills blur into streaks of green and gold as the countryside rushed past.

Leaving had felt like the only choice. But now, as the distance grew between her and the only life she had ever known, doubt began to creep into the spaces between her thoughts.

Had she made a mistake?

The station had been nearly empty when she boarded, just a handful of travelers scattered along the platform. She had scanned the crowd instinctively, hoping—maybe even expecting—to see Callum one last time. But he hadn't come.

Not that she had asked him to.

A bitter smile played on her lips. Callum had always known her too well. He wouldn't have tried to stop her. He wouldn't have given her some grand farewell speech. That wasn't his way. Instead, he had given her space, letting her make the choice on her own.

And now, she was on her way to a city she barely knew, to a future she hadn't quite figured out.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself as the wind whistled through the small gap between the window and the frame. A crumpled envelope rested in her lap—the last thing she had taken from her childhood bedroom before she left. It was addressed to her in her mother's handwriting, the ink slightly smudged in places.

Eleanor had found it tucked between her books, hidden away like a secret waiting to be discovered.

She hesitated before carefully pulling the letter from the envelope, her breath catching as she unfolded the paper.

My Dearest Eleanor,

I don't know when you'll read this, or if you ever will. But if you're holding this letter, it means you're at a crossroads. And if I know you at all, you're probably scared—though you'd never admit it.

I won't pretend to understand all the things you carry inside you, but I need you to know this: You are stronger than you think. Braver than you believe. And no matter where you go, you will always be enough.

The world is wide and uncertain, and sometimes, leaving feels like the only way to find yourself. Maybe it is. But don't lose sight of the people who love you. Don't let the weight of your own expectations make you forget what truly matters.

And Eleanor? Come home when you're ready. We'll be waiting.

With love, always,Mum

A lump formed in Eleanor's throat.

She had never been the kind of daughter who openly shared her fears, her struggles. Her mother had always been gentle, understanding in a way that sometimes made Eleanor want to push her away. It had felt easier to carry everything on her own than to admit she needed help.

And yet, here in this letter, her mother had seen through her.

A sharp breath left her lips as she folded the letter back into its envelope, pressing it tightly between her fingers as if the weight of the words could steady her.

The train rattled over a bridge, the river below catching the fading light of the setting sun.

A man a few seats away cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. An old woman clutched her shawl closer, her gaze fixed on something in the distance. A young boy, no older than six, giggled quietly as he pressed his hands against the window, marveling at the view.

For a moment, Eleanor envied him. The way he could look at the world with nothing but wonder. No fear, no hesitation. Just excitement for whatever lay ahead.

She used to be like that once.

Maybe she still could be.

The thought startled her. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to believe that.

She shifted in her seat, staring out at the darkening sky. Somewhere behind her, Braemar was growing smaller and smaller, fading into memory. And somewhere ahead, a new life was waiting.

For the first time since she had stepped onto the train, Eleanor let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

She didn't know what the future held.

But maybe, just maybe, that was okay.