Chapter 9 - The First Strawberry
By the summer of 2026, the lavender cottage we rented in the quiet hills outside Yellow Springs had become a true home. The yard was no longer wild; it was filled with wild roses, a small vegetable garden, and a wooden swing set that sat beneath a massive oak tree.
Brinley’s limp was gone, replaced by the steady, confident stride of a healthy nine-year-old girl. She had gained weight, her cheeks pink and full of life. She attended a small, specialized school nearby where the teachers understood her history and gave her the space she needed to grow.
One sunny afternoon, Officer Tatum Briggs stopped by. He was out of uniform, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, carrying a small wooden crate.
"Hey, Rachel. Hey, Brinley," Tatum smiled, tipping his cap. "My wife and I were clearing out our greenhouse, and we had some extra starter plants. I thought you guys might want some real Ohio strawberries for that garden."
Brinley ran out from the porch, her turtle backpack bouncing against her shoulders. She didn't hide behind me anymore. She walked right up to Tatum and looked into the crate.
"Are they sweet?" she asked, her voice bright and full of curiosity.
May you like
"The sweetest in the county," Tatum laughed, kneeling down to show her how to plant them.
I watched them from the porch, holding a glass of iced tea, the silver locket resting against my collarbone. The locket didn't represent a distant memory anymore; it was just a beautiful piece of jewelry that matched the real girl sitting in the grass.
