Chapter 5 - A New Horizon
I opened the heavy oak front door of my parents' house and stepped out into the crisp Evanston afternoon air. The lawn mower I had heard earlier in the day had stopped, leaving the neighborhood in a quiet, peaceful stillness. A sleek, black private car with tinted windows was idling quietly at the curb, its driver standing by the rear door waiting for me.
As I walked down the paved pathway, I heard the front door open behind me. Dad stood on the porch, looking older, smaller, and infinitely more fragile than he had an hour ago. The wind caught his thinning gray hair, and for a fleeting second, I almost felt a flicker of pity. But I stamped it out. Pity was a luxury reserved for people who hadn't spent a decade digging themselves out of the graves my family had dug for them.
"Maya!" Dad called out, his voice cracking slightly in the open air. "At least... at least tell us you'll visit for the holidays!"
I paused with my hand on the handle of the car door. I turned around to look at him—standing on the porch of the house that represented everything safe, small, and unimaginative.
"I’m launching a new orbital satellite network next month," I called back calmly. "I'll be spending the holidays in Tokyo and Zurich. I'm afraid my schedule is entirely booked."
Without waiting for his reply, I slid into the leather interior of the car. The door closed with a satisfying, airtight thud, instantly cutting off the sounds of the Evanston suburb.
The driver put the car in gear, pulling away smoothly from the curb. I leaned back against the plush headrest, watching the tree-lined streets blur past through the tinted window. My phone buzzed in my palm. It was a flood of notifications—dozens of text messages from college acquaintances, distant relatives, and corporate executives I hadn't spoken to in years, all suddenly remembering my name, all desperately hoping for a piece of my attention.
May you like
I ignored every single one of them. With a single tap of my thumb, I switched the phone to airplane mode, plunging myself into glorious, uninterrupted silence.
The road ahead was wide open, stretching out endlessly across the horizon. There were no safety nets, no approval ratings to maintain, and no family meetings to dread. There was only the future—vast, brilliant, and entirely mine.
