Chapter 10
As Aurora stepped out of the airport and into the streets of Sydney, she found herself surrounded by
unfamiliar buildings, strangers of every skin tone, and kind, curious smiles from people passing
- by.
It was all so new. So different from the gray–toned streets she had grown up on.
And yet she didn’t feel the slightest fear.
In fact, for the first time in a long while… she felt hopeful.
She was finally free.
Free from the house that had never been a home. Free from the people who had never truly loved
her.
She wheeled her suitcase to the side and opened her phone, locating the address her new landlord
had sent her.
It wasn’t far, but with her body still sore and her limbs heavy from travel, calling a rideshare felt
like the better option.
Even if it cost more, all she wanted right now was rest.
The driver arrived within five minutes.
He stepped out of the car, a thickset man with a rough–looking face and a vivid tattoo snaking down.
his forearm. He didn’t say a word as he hoisted her suitcase into the trunk.
Aurora tensed slightly.
Sensing her unease, the driver finally turned his head and asked casually, “You British?”
She shook her head quickly. “American.”
The man’s face brightened. “Ah, American! A fellow countryman!”
“Where from?” he added. “I’m from Wyoming.”
His accent was unusual–probably influenced by years abroad—but to Aurora, the sound felt oddly
comforting.
It was like unexpectedly bumping into an old friend in a foreign land.
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“New York.” she replied with a faint smile.
That broke the ice completely.
They began chatting as the car rolled through the city streets.
The driver told her he had moved to Australia for his girlfriend. Back in USA, he had owned a tattoo parlor, but starting a business here was expensive, and the taxes were brutal. So now he was driving to save up, hoping to reopen a studio someday.
At a red light, he pulled out his wallet and proudly showed her a photo–he and his girlfriend smiling cheek–to–cheek.
His whole face lit up when he talked about her.
“What about you?” he asked. “What brings you to Australia? I mean, coming from New York, I bet
you had a good life already.”
Aurora hesitated for a beat.
She couldn’t exactly say I came here to run from my family.
That felt… too heavy. Too personal.
“Work,” she answered after a pause. “I got a good job opportunity here.”
“That’s great,” the driver said with genuine warmth. “If the future looks brighter here, you made the right choice.”
Aurora nodded, choosing not to elaborate further.
The rest of the ride, he talked enthusiastically about Sydney’s neighborhoods, local food, and hidden gems around the city. She listened carefully and made mental notes of every place he
mentioned.
When they finally arrived at her apartment building, she paid the fare through the app–but also
took out a crisp new bill and offered it as a tip.
“No need,” he said, waving her off. “We’re both American. Don’t be so formal.”
He set her suitcase down, gave her a quick wave, and drove off.
Aurora stood there for a moment, smiling faintly, her heart a little warmer,
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She turned toward the entrance.
Her landlady–a cheerful woman with a head of bouncy golden curls–was already waiting. She handed over the keys, ran through a few basic instructions, and left almost as quickly as she had arrived.
Before Aurora could say thank you, she was gone.
She carried her things up the narrow stairs, but paused on the landing.
At the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone.
A tall, vaguely familiar silhouette slipping around the bend in the hallway.
She blinked, and it was gone.
Probably just sleep deprivation, she told herself.
Her apartment was small, but clean and well–furnished. A modest bedroom, a cozy living area,
a tiny balcony where warm sunlight spilled in through gauzy curtains.
There was even a small open kitchen–something she’d quietly hoped for.
To most, it might not have mattered. But to Aurora, it was everything.
and
Growing up, her parents rarely paid attention to her dietary preferences. Most of the time, she had learned to cook for herself just to avoid the food she couldn’t eat.
And now… she had a space where she could cook whatever she wanted. For herself.
Just the way she liked it.
And that, in its quiet simplicity, made her deeply, genuinely happy.
Chapter 10
