“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

The morning sun began to rise over the hills, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

The air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of damp grass.

Dante stood beside me, watching the ambulance drive away.

“The sanctuary is yours now, Mara,” Dante said. “I will have the deeds transferred to your name by noon.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“I do,” he replied. “You saved Vesper. You saved me. This is where you belong.”

Three months later, the grass in the paddocks had grown thick and green.

The fences had been repaired and painted a clean, bright white.

The bullet holes in the arena walls had been patched and painted over.

I stood in the stable aisle, brushing Vesper’s sleek black coat.

Her coat shone like polished coal in the morning light.

Her leg was completely healed, the muscle strong and supple under her skin.

She nudged my shoulder with her nose, looking for the piece of apple she knew I had.

I pulled it from my pocket and let her take it from my palm.