Chapter 6 - The Journey Home
The bus ride back to Maple Street was quieter than usual, even for a Tuesday afternoon.
Ethan sat near the back window, watching the grey autumn blur of Riverton slide past. In his backpack, alongside the worn yellow envelope, rested a certified bank draft bearing a security seal that could unlock any medical facility in the country.
He didn't feel like a billionaire. He still wore the same sneakers with the knotted laces. The cracked rubber still scraped against the rubber floor mats of the bus.
When he stepped off at his corner, the air smelled damp and cold, carrying the faint, familiar scent of woodsmoke and exhaust from the old manufacturing plants down by the river.
He walked up the cracked concrete steps of the duplex.
The door was unlocked, because Maple Street was the kind of neighborhood where people still trusted their neighbors, even when there was nothing left to steal.
"Grandma?" Ethan called out, stepping into the narrow hallway.
"I'm in the kitchen, sweetheart," Rose’s voice drifted out, weak but carrying that familiar, stubborn warmth. "Did you manage to find the discount grocery store open? I told you not to worry about the bread—we have enough crackers for today."
Ethan walked into the small, cluttered kitchen.
The old refrigerator hummed with a tired, rattling vibration in the corner. The white sugar jar sat on the counter next to the electric bill, exactly where it always did.
Rose sat at the small formica table, wearing her faded blue cardigan. She was squinting down at a small plastic pill bottle, her thin fingers tapping against the side.
There were two pills left now. Not three.
Ethan walked over, pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down. He didn't say a word. He reached into his backpack, pulled out the heavy bank draft, and laid it flat on the formica table between them.
Rose blinked, her cloudy eyes struggling to focus on the thick, cream-colored paper stamped with gold embossing.
"What's this, Ethan?" she asked, her voice cautious. "Did you find a flyer on the bus?"
Ethan slid the paper closer to her hands, then placed his small, scarred fingers over hers.
"We're going to see a doctor today, Grandma," Ethan said, his voice steady and clear. "A real doctor. And we're going to fix your eyes."
Rose stared at the paper. Slowly, her trembling fingers brushed the gold seal. She didn't read the numbers—her eyes weren't strong enough for that. But she saw the name printed at the top of the trust authorization: Gabriel Walker.
May you like
A single tear cut a clean path down her weathered cheek, washing away the grey dust of a lifetime of quiet survival.
"He kept his word," Rose whispered, her voice breaking as she pulled her grandson into her arms, burying her face in his shoulder. "That old fool actually kept his word."
