Chapter 8 - Building the Sanctuary
Spring arrived six months later, bringing vibrant green grass, blooming wildflowers, and warm blue skies to the valleys outside Reno.
With the stolen money fully recovered by federal marshals and my military promotion to Lieutenant Colonel officially approved, I purchased a beautiful, sunlit ranch house on five acres of land near the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains.
The house had high wooden ceilings, large windows overlooking snow-capped peaks, and a massive backyard with a fresh wooden swing set that I built myself with Aunt Evelyn's help.
Eli’s seventh birthday arrived on a warm Saturday in May.
Our backyard was filled with laughter, blue balloons, and the delicious smell of a backyard barbecue.
Friends from my new military unit were there, along with Detective Vance—who had become a close family friend—and Aunt Evelyn, who had officially moved to Reno to help me run our home.
Eli ran across the lush grass with his new golden retriever puppy, Barnaby, trailing right behind him, his bright, soaring laughter echoing through the mountain air.
Colonel Brooks stood beside me on the wooden back porch, holding a glass of iced tea, watching the children play.
"You built a good life here, Sarah," Brooks said softly, a proud smile on his face.
"It took thirty years to find real peace, Colonel," I replied, leaning against the porch railing. "But every inch of this dirt belongs to us."
"How is Eli doing?" Brooks asked. "Does he ever ask about... them?"
I took a sip of my drink, watching Eli teach his puppy how to sit on the grass.
"A few months ago," I said, "he asked me why Grandpa and Grandma left us on the road. I told him the truth in a way a seven-year-old could understand. I told him that some people have broken hearts that don't know how to love properly. And that sometimes, walking away from broken people is the only way to stay safe."
"What did he say?"
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I smiled, a soft tear of joy touching the corner of my eye. "He looked at me, hugged my neck, and said, 'That's okay, Mom. We have our own team now.'"
"And he’s right," Brooks said, tapping his glass against mine. "To the team."
