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Hazel met them at the steps of the council hall with the other council members behind her. Her hair was woven with violet strands and tiny white buds bloomed along her collarbone, sprouting from skin like she was half soil herself.

She studied Delilah a long moment, then gave a small nod.

“You did what I hoped,” she said. “Not just healing the land, but yourself.”

Delilah looked away, emotions too raw.

Hazel stepped forward, gently brushing a knuckle down Delilah’s cheek.

“You were always meant to be more than what you were told,” Hazel murmured. “More than the girl who left. More thanthe one who came back angry. You’re the bridge now. Between root and bloom. Past and future.”

Delilah nodded, throat tight.

Hazel reached into her robe and handed her a scroll, tied with pale green thread.

“Consider this official,” she said. “The council voted this morning. The role of Permanent Healer, Forest Liaison, and Guardian of the Grove is yours—should you want it.”

Delilah froze.

Permanent.

Not a visitor. Not someone temporarily called home by duty or guilt.

This was a place. A purpose.

Alife.

She looked at Rollo, who was already smiling. Not pushing. Justwaiting.

For her choice.

“I’d be honored,” Delilah said, voice strong now. “So long as I don’t have to do it alone.”

Hazel’s eyes twinkled. “Never.”

The sun crested above the trees then, golden and high, casting warm light over everything—over townsfolk gathering in the green, over ribbons fluttering from eaves, over laughter and celebration and years of shadow finally lifting.

Delilah turned to Rollo, both hands cupping his face.

“You made me stronger,” she whispered.

“No,” he said, brushing his lips across her forehead. “You were strong already.”

She leaned in, pressed her lips to his—and it wasn’t desperate this time. It wasn’t fierce with fear or stitched together by old pain.

It wassoft.Hopeful. Whole.

The kiss of a woman who had come home to herself.

And to the man who waited with her every step of the way.

38

ROLLO

Aweek had passed since the forest sighed back to life, and Celestial Pines finally felt like itself again.

The air didn’t taste like copper and ash anymore. Birds sang more often than they didn’t. And the townsfolk? They smiled like they meant it now—like the weight that had pressed down on their shoulders for months had finally slipped free.