Page 34 of Eden and her Mercenary
Two days later, Stella was cleared to travel. The surgical site had healed remarkably well, her movements growing steadier by the hour. Dr. Chen stood in the driveway as we loaded our belongings into Mack's truck, her clinical demeanor softened slightly by what might have been approval.
"Keep the head elevated during transport," she instructed, handing me a small bag of medications. "Pain management for another week, antibiotics for ten days. No running, no excitement."
I nodded, memorizing each instruction while Royal secured Stella's bed in the back seat of the extended cab. The pit bull watched us with alert eyes, the white star on her chest bright against her brindle coat.
"What about Harrison?" I asked, glancing toward the main cabin where the scientist had kept largely to herself these past days.
Chen's expression tightened. "She's staying. For now."
"Is that safe?" Royal asked, joining us.
"Safer than anywhere else," Chen replied. "Besides, she has knowledge that could help others like your dog. Knowledge that shouldn't be wasted."
I understood then—Chen saw in Harrison a kindred spirit, another scientist who'd crossed lines and paid prices. Perhaps together they could find redemption in helping rather than harming.
"Thank you," I said, offering my hand. "For everything."
Chen shook it briefly. "Don't come back," she said, but there was no malice in it. "My retirement was supposed to be peaceful."
Royal laughed. "No promises."
Mack drove us back toward Pearl Lake, the forest gradually giving way to farmland, then small clusters of houses as we approached town. Stella dozed against my thigh, occasionally opening her eyes to check her surroundings before settling back into sleep.
"She seems... calmer," Mack observed, glancing in the rearview mirror. "More present."
Royal nodded. "The implant was probably causing neurological interference even when it wasn't actively controlling her."
"Like constant static in her brain," I murmured, stroking her smooth head, carefully avoiding the healing incision. "No wonder she was so anxious."
We dropped Mack at his clinic with promises to bring Stella for a check-up in a week. Then Royal drove us the final stretch to his cabin, the truck winding up familiar forest roads until the small log structure came into view, just as I remembered it from that first night.
"Home sweet home," Royal said, a question in his voice as he parked.
I looked at the cabin, then at Stella slowly waking in my lap, then at Royal—this man who'd turned his life upside down for a dog and a stranger. Something settled in my chest, a certainty I hadn't felt in years.
"Home," I agreed.
Royal carried Stella inside while I brought in our few belongings. The cabin was exactly as we'd left it days ago—slightly dusty, smelling of pine and woodsmoke, but somehow already familiar. Royal gently placed Stella on a dog bed he must have purchased during one of his supply runs while we were at Chen's.
"I thought she might like her own space," he explained, almost shy. "Though she's welcome on the furniture too."
Stella sniffed the bed cautiously before settling onto it with a contented sigh, her eyes tracking our movements around the cabin.
"She looks like she belongs here," I said.
Royal moved behind me, arms encircling my waist as we watched the dog gradually relax into her new bed. "So do you."
That evening, we sat on the porch as twilight settled over the forest. Stella lay between our chairs, occasionally lifting her head at the sound of distant wildlife. A gentle breeze carried the scent of pine and late spring flowers, and somewhere an owl began its nightly hunt.
"I should call Margo," I said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Let her know Stella's safe."
Royal nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "What will you tell her?"
I considered this. "The truth. Or enough of it. That Stella needed more than just relocation, that she's found a permanent home."
"And what about you?" Royal asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Will you tell her you've found a home too?"
I reached across the space between our chairs, taking his hand in mine. "Yes," I said simply. "I think I have."
