The bus rolled into Maplewood just after sunset, humming softly through streets lined with maple trees painted gold and red by early autumn. The air smelled like wood smoke and coffee, and for the first time in years, Emily Brooks felt the quiet press of peace instead of city noise.
She stepped off the bus in her pressed coat, clutching a small leather suitcase that had seen better days. The driver waved as he pulled away, leaving her alone in front of the village diner, The Rusty Spoon. Its neon sign flickered uncertainly, half lit like it couldn’t decide whether to welcome her or not.
