Page 53 of Clear Path

She nodded and gestured toward the IV line in her left arm. “They gave me intravenous hemin to treat my AIP. I have mild concussion so they want to keep me overnight. But I’ll be fine.”

Ron, still in the doorway, shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Look, I need to know if you want to press charges against Evan Jeffries. Abandoning an injured person, failure to report?—”

“No. No charges.”

The chief frowned. “He left you to die.”

“And he’ll have to live with that knowledge.” Rory turned toward the flowers and smiled at the cheerful riot of colors. “And the knowledge that I see him for what he truly is.”

34

Allen & Sons Factory, home of the Tri-Town Center

halfway between Clayton Falls and Union Hill,

Four months later

Diana Mercer stood on the loading dock of the old garment factory, her yellow-tinted glasses bringing into focus the workers and volunteers who carried lumber and tools through the cavernous main entrance. The summer day buzzed with activity.

Julie approached, blueprint in hand, her designer boots somehow immaculate despite the copious construction dust.

“The treatment center will be ready next month,” Julie said, pointing to the east wing. “Eight beds to start, with room to expand.”

They walked inside together, where the morning light streamed through newly repaired windows. The factory floor had been divided into defined spaces: a community workshop where people could share their expertise in cooking, sewing, carpentry, mechanics, dance, and anything else they couldimagine; an art studio with windows that faced the mountains; a large common area with mismatched, comfortable furniture; and the crown jewel, the Bodhi King Addiction Treatment Center, funded with seed money that Rory had raised by auctioning off the photograph she’d had Bodhi take of her at the Kovalic house. Rumor was Tripp had bought it, but nobody knew for sure.

“Not exactly luxury lofts,” Diana observed.

Julie smiled ruefully. “Nope. Although those are coming along nicely, too.”

Diana laughed. Julie would always be a business woman, but her edges were softer now.

Rory’s voice called from the mezzanine above. “Julie! Can you check this lighting?”

They looked up to see Rory adjusting track lighting in what would become the community gallery space. Her exhibition had returned from its three-city tour, and would be permanently housed here—photographs documenting both displacement and resilience along the trail.

As they climbed the metal stairs to join her, Diana remarked, “I never thought I’d see the three of us working together like this.”

“Strange bedfellows,” Julie agreed.

“Speaking of strange bedfellows,” Rory said, gesturing toward the main entrance.

Lydia Hudson stood in the doorway, cardboard boxes stacked in her arms. She wore practical shoes and a determined expression.

“You sure you have room for my canning supplies?” she called up to them.

“Second floor, north corner,” Julie responded, surprising Diana with the warmth in her voice. “Your tables are being delivered this afternoon.”

The first workshop of the Clayton Falls—Clarksville—Union Hill Community Sustainability Series was a three-parter on creating nutritious meals on a budget. Lydia would teach how to preserve fruits and vegetables by canning and pickling them; Dot would show how to cook affordable plant-based meals to stretch a dollar; and her nephew, Will, and his daughter, Jessie, home from college for the summer, were going to teach an easy system of container gardening, rain barrel irrigation, and composting.

Camden and Joey hurried to help Lydia with her boxes. Joey, newly clean, had been hired as a peer counselor for the addiction center. His younger friend Camden was enrolled in Julie’s entrepreneurship program, his nervous energy channeled into planning a bike repair business to serve trail users.

The three women adjusted the lighting and then leaned on the railing to look down at the space they were transforming together—not into something new and shiny that erased what came before, but into something that honored the building’s history while serving the present community. A third space, as Rory had called it in her proposal. Not luxury, not abandonment, but something vital in between.

“Did you hear about Aaron and Sadie?” Julie asked.

Diana’s eyes widened. “No, what? Please tell me he didn’t propose.”

Julie laughed, “No. Much better. He got the promotion. Sadie said after he came through in the emergency for Evan and Rory, he had so much more confidence that all his poor performance issues evaporated. She recommended him to replace her as store manager, and he aced the interview.”

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