Page 4 of Salvation (Clover-Hills #1)

Blake

I step out of the car, slinging one of my bags over my shoulder.

"Thanks," I say to the driver, slipping him a tip.

The man gives me a nod in return, and I watch as the red car peels down the road, kicking up dirt and rocks as it goes, before eventually disappearing from view. I watch, as if I can track it long enough to delay taking in what awaits behind me.

Clover-Hills still smells and looks exactly as it did the day I left.

It's fresh, quiet, and peaceful. There are mountain ranges, trees, and fields that stretch for miles.

A few updates have been made to accommodate the town but most of the land has been left in its natural state.

It's a small town consisting of mainly the necessities with few family-owned businesses scattered throughout.

Such a stark contrast to the bustle of New York City.

Anxiety, fear, and a little nostalgia course through me as I turn and take in the little white house with green shutters before me.So many happy memories. But so many painful memories, too.

How can something be so terrifying yet so comforting at the same time?

The all-too-familiar creek of the screen door draws my attention. As it slams open, my eyes lock on the blonde mop of curls and brown eyes that so fiercely resemble mine, standing frozen in the doorway.

“Hi, Mama,” I choke out.

When I speak those two words, I finally let the burning in my nose that’s been building for days wash over me.

I let the tears fall as my mom rushes toward me, reaching for me as if I’m a lifeline.

Hugging me as if I’m as fragile as I look.

As fragile as I feel being back in my hometown and so far away from what I thought was the right space to piece myself back together.