Chapter 8 - The Ghost on Route 315
By mid-December, the first heavy snow of the year had blanketed Columbus in a thick, silent white quilt.
Emily drove her SUV down Route 315 toward the Delaware county line, the heater humming softly and baby Daniel sleeping in his car seat in the back, his little chest rising and falling in time with the rhythm of the windshield wipers.
She pulled off at the exit where Daniel’s truck had left the road three months ago.
The guardrail had been replaced—new, shiny galvanized steel that caught the gray afternoon light like a mirror. A small cluster of dried winter flowers and a single blue ribbon were tied to one of the vertical posts, placed there by one of Daniel’s old college friends who still worked the night shift at the logistics yard.
Emily parked on the wide gravel shoulder, cut the engine, and stepped out into the freezing air.
The wind was sharp, smelling of pine smoke and wet snow from the state park across the river. She pulled her wool coat tight around her throat, walked over to the guardrail, and looked down the steep embankment where the tall cattails were buried under two feet of white powder.
For a long time, there was no sound except for the hiss of tires on the salted highway behind her.
Then she closed her eyes and remembered the way Daniel used to laugh when she beat him at Scrabble, the way he smelled of cedarwood and stale coffee after a long day in the office, and the way he had held her hand in the delivery room when they first talked about naming their son.
He hadn't left her unprotected. Even gone, he had known every move her father would make before Richard even knew he was going to make them.
“We won, Daniel,” Emily whispered into the cold air.
A single gust of wind swept across the highway, lifting the blue ribbon on the guardrail and sending a tiny cloud of powdery snow dancing across the top of the steel post, like a hand brushing gently against her cheek.
May you like
She stood there for ten minutes, unmoving, letting the cold air clear her lungs of every last trace of the fear her father had tried to plant in her bones.
Then she turned, walked back to her car, and drove home.
