Scarlett stared at the sign staked in the grass at the side of the highway. "Paradise Peak, population 1,100", it read; a sign she hadnāt seen since her family had passed it on their way out. It was the same sign though, rickety and worn. It was a wonder the rotting legs hadnāt given out years ago.
This was it. Just a few more minutes and she would be home. At the moment though, the idea of coming home seemed more daunting than comforting.
Not for the first time on her 1,100-mile trek up the west coast, she wondered what the hell she was doing. This had seemed like a good idea six months ago in California. Now, though, she couldnāt help but wonder if sheād gone just a smidge - or off-her-rocker - crazy.
But it wasnāt crazy, she reassured herself. The oversized, glass-walled monstrosity her family had moved to in California had never felt much like home. Hell, sheād needed to use the intercom to call to the opposite side of the house. No, the quaint, ranch-style house sheād grown up in...that was home. Of course, home was situated in a place where everyone knew absolutely everything there is to know about...well...everyone. So, if she thought she could keep her homecoming quiet, she really was losing her marbles.
Realizing sheād slowed to a crawlās pace, she forced her foot down on the pedal. It was too late to change her mind now. Besides, it was entirely possible nobody would recognize her, and sheād at least make it through the day before the Paradise Peak Gazetteās only reporter was banging down her door.
She drove the half mile into town and stopped at the nearest....