The Leaving Road Novel Novels & Stories

I had made up my mind to leave that place and head somewhere far away. It was a choice I had made on my own. I wanted to get away from all those people and things and start a brand-new life for myself. "She's been asking to see you, insisting on one last meeting," the police officer said, looking at me with a hint of pity. "Will you go?" I stopped what I was doing with my hands for a moment. I remembered her in a white dress, smiling at me in the field, and the firm way she wrote the word 'quagmire' in her autobiography as she was dying.

At the time of the call, Mom and I had hiked to the peak of a snow-capped mountain to fulfill our dream of seeing a rare flower that bloomed there. I said softly, "No, we wouldn't. You're too greedy, and you'll always think the best of the things you didn't get. If I hadn't ended things when I had, I would've ended up like how Hannah is now." I vaguely heard Christopher start to weep, but I hung up without listening any further. As Mom and I descended the mountain, I received a push notification on a news update. "Former heir of the Shaw family takes life in nursing home."

“Don’t come looking for me again, and stay away from Theo.” I walked past him toward the elevator. No footsteps followed. Before the doors closed, I saw him in the mirrored wall, still standing there with the thermos in his hand. Three days later, Theo’s fever finally broke, and the doctor cleared him to leave. I immediately changed our flight. Adrian had not appeared again, so I thought he had finally understood. But on the day Theo was discharged, a black Maybach was waiting outside the hospital. Adrian stood beside it in a dark suit. He had clearly been there for some time, and the familiar scent of cedar still clung to him.

Ayla The road back to the warehouse looked different at night, which was ridiculous, because roads are roads and concrete does not become more sinister simply because the sky has gone dark above it. But this one did. Or perhaps I did. Everything outside the windows of Finn’s car looked flatter and meaner than it had in daylight, all the industrial edges sharpened into silhouettes, fenced lots and dead units and low brick buildings becoming less like parts of a town and more like the bones of somewhere forgotten. Rain had come and gone without fully committing itself, leaving the roads wet enough to hold the weak glare of lamps in broken stretches. Nothing out there looked alive. That was the

The First Witness floated beside Nova. Its galaxy-filled eyes reflected the shadow. "Why are they sad?" Nova didn't know how to answer. Because the truth was simple. They had been forgotten. And there were few wounds deeper than that. The shadow slowly pulled apart. Not splitting. Opening. Like a doorway. A path emerged through the darkness. A road built from shattered galaxies and dead starlight. The sight was beautiful. And horrifying. The road stretched endlessly into the Graveyard. Toward something hidden beyond sight. The voice echoed once more.

“Not attacking us.” Kade scoffed, but wisely stayed quiet. I looked between them and suddenly felt tired. Too much had happened in Shadowbane. Too many secrets had surfaced. Too much darkness still hung around us. It was time to leave. “We move tonight,” I said. Rain looked up immediately. Her eyes brightened at the news, and that small reaction made something warm settle in my chest. Good. She wanted to leave as badly as I did. Not long after, we set out. The road from Shadowbane was quiet, winding through thick forest where moonlight barely touched the ground beneath the heavy branches overhead. Malcolm drove ahead, alert as always, while Rain stayed close to me.

"Are you sure, Isabella? Once we leave this sector, there’s no coming back. He’s going to hunt for us. He’s going to turn the city inside out." "I know," I said. My voice didn't waver. "I can't go back to that house. I can't be a ghost in his kingdom anymore." He nodded, handing me a hooded jacket and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Wear these. We’re taking the old freight roads. They’re overgrown and unlit, but they’ll keep us away from his patrols." Leaving the warehouse felt like walking off the edge of the world. We moved into the pre-dawn darkness, the city around us silent and gray. Enzo’s car was parked behind a row of rusted containers, its engine humming to life with a quiet, efficient

Those who could live beside a cemetery so peacefully either saw death as a part of life or were soon dying—just like me. Regrets? I had no idea if I was leaving without any. Well, giving my perfectly healthy heart to someone who did not deserve it probably counted as a regret. Not a complete life. During my final two days. I could feel life slipping away from my body. Strangely enough, I felt no fear. Instead, I kept sunbathing in my yard as usual. And then someone blocked the sunlight. I raised my head. Joseph. He had a stubble, and his eyes were filled with tears.

I wiped away my tears, turned around, and walked out. When I got home, I packed up every last one of my belongings, leaving behind only two things on the table: a divorce agreement and a medical certificate of abortion. That night, Connor never came home. The next morning, he called me over and over, his voice erupting with fury when I finally answered.

Today is my last day in this city. Perhaps the weather, too, felt the weight of goodbye. A cold front had swept in overnight, and the wind now bit through coats and scarves with a practiced indifference. People on the streets hurried past, wrapped so tightly they resembled something out of a deli freezer—bundled, muted, waiting to be shelved or sold. Every breath I took became a fleeting white cloud, disappearing before it could mean anything. It seemed appropriate. I was leaving. And things like this—the cold, the fog on your lips, the finality of silence—should have a proper ending.