During the day, the drive north was gorgeous—all mountains and sea and rolling hills. But at night it was all darkness and headlights. A sea of tail lights floated ahead of the bus, like embers from a fire blowing in the wind. She’d burned down her life—not on purpose, but the results couldn’t be argued with. The question was, could she rise from the ashes like a phoenix, or had the flames scarred her forever? God, she missed her phone. She arrived in Bearfield just after dark. The little vacation town was quaint, but too sleepy for Bella’s taste. It looked like the kind of place where nothing ever happened, and a new bakery opening up was the talk of the town for months. The bus station was just the parking lot next to a shuttered barbecue joint. A schedule tacked up on a post was the height of the technology on display. Bella missed San Francisco with every drop of her blood. It was such a beautiful city, full of opposites.
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