She Called Me a Country Girl. By Midnight, She Was Begging Me to Save Her.

By midnight, the guests had departed, leaving the farm quiet under a blanket of brilliant, silver stars.

The scent of sweet clover, night rain, and woodsmoke drifted across the porch.

My father sat in his old wooden rocking chair, his pipe unlit in his hand, fast asleep with a peaceful smile on his weathered face.

I walked down the steps, my bare feet sinking into the cool, damp grass of the lawn, and walked toward the edge of the pasture where the old oak tree stood guard over the property.

Standing beside the wooden fence was Daniel, looking out over the dark valley toward the distant lights of the city where the Meridian Royale Hotel stood tall against the night sky.

I stepped up beside him, leaning my elbows against the top rail of the fence.

"It looks small from here, doesn't it?" Daniel murmured, pointing toward the distant cluster of city lights.

"Everything looks small when you're standing on firm ground, Daniel," I replied softly.

He turned his head to look at me, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, worn silver object.

It was our mother’s old gold watch—the one he had worn to the engagement party a year ago.

"I had it cleaned and serviced last week," Daniel said, handing it to me. "I want you to have it, Lena."

I looked down at the delicate watch resting in his palm. "Daniel... Mom gave this to you."

"She gave it to me so I wouldn't forget who I was," Daniel whispered, placing the watch gently in my hand and wrapping my fingers around it. "And you're the one who kept it safe."

I looked down at the watch, then up at my brother—a man who had survived the illusion, stripped away the gold leaf, and found his soul waiting for him in the dirt of his home.

I closed my fingers around the warm gold, leaned my shoulder against his, and looked out over the quiet, beautiful countryside that was ours.