Chapter 10 - The First Anniversary
July 5th came without thunder.
The morning broke clear and hot, the sky over Richmond the color of a washed-out blue plate. The humidity hung in the streets like a wet wool blanket, but up on the interstate, the air was moving fast, driven by the steady hum of tires on asphalt.
I drove out to the cemetery in Ashland alone.
The stones were white and clean, scrubbed by the groundskeepers every month with a mild bleach solution that kept the Virginia moss from turning the names green.
ETHAN MILLER1991 - 2025Beloved Husband and Father
LILY MILLER2018 - 2025Our Little Flower
NOAH MILLER2021 - 2025Our Brave Firefighter
I didn't bring flowers. Flowers died too quickly in the July heat, turning brown and slimy against the marble within forty-eight hours. Instead, I brought three small, smooth river stones I’d collected from the bank of the James River down behind the warehouse—round, gray, and heavy enough not to blow away in the afternoon wind.
I laid one on Ethan’s stone, one on Lily’s, and one on Noah’s.
As I stood up, brushing the grass from the knees of my black linen trousers, I heard the distant, muffled roar of a semi-truck shifting gears out on the interstate two miles to the east. It sounded different than it had a year ago. It didn't sound like a threat. It sounded like an engine doing what it was built to do—moving weight across the land, carrying things from one place to another because people were waiting at the other end of the line.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
It was Margaret, calling from the foundation office to say that the state police commissioner had just signed off on the funding for twenty new weigh stations in the western mountain districts.
"We’re fully booked for the rest of the year," she said when I answered. "The NTSB wants to expand the program into Maryland and North Carolina by spring."
"Tell them we have the funds," I said, looking down at the three gray stones gleaming in the sunlight.
"Are you coming back to the office?"
May you like
"In twenty minutes," I said. "I just have to check the logs."
I turned away from the graves, walked back down the grassy path between the rows of white marble, and got into the car. The engine started on the first turn, smooth and steady, and I pulled out onto the road that led back to the river.
