Page 86 of The Rain Catcher

And just like that, the future starts to come into focus.

We sit there for a while, shoulder to shoulder, a little trio in the vast morning. I watch Cassie make her final survey of the tide, hands sifting the sand with reverence. She’s taller now, braver. I see traces of Sara in her, but also so much of the girl she’s become—the girl we’ve made together, in a way I never could have planned or even wanted, back when everything felt temporary and the future was a wall I couldn’t see over.

A pair of seagulls squabble overhead, and somewhere out past the breakers, a boat motors slowly by. The wind has teeth, but the sun is strong enough to blunt it. I close my eyes again, listen to the hush and rush of the waves, the sound of my daughter’s voice, Nathan’s even breathing beside me.

I think about all the ways we’ve reassembled ourselves, about the space we’ve made for the old, the new, the things we lost and the things we never thought we’d find. I think about Sara, and how the last gift she left wasn’t a memory, but a direction—forward. Always forward, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

I reach for my notebook, open it to a blank page. At the top, I write:

For Sara, who saw what could be and pointed the way.

Then I close the cover, let it rest against my thigh. The sun climbs higher, the water sparkles, and Cassie runs back to us, arms full of sand dollars, laughing so hard she can barely breathe.

Nathan wraps one arm around me and the other around Cassie. We’re not exactly a family. Not yet. But it’s close enough to fool the heart. And for now, that’s more than enough.

THE END