Jane Goldberg -

"I won't be in tomorrow, Sarah," Jane said, her voice sounding steadier than it had in years. "Oh? A vacation?"

"No," Jane said as the doors began to slide shut. "I'm just going to go find someone I lost." jane goldberg

She didn't pack a suitcase. She took her coat, her car keys, and the brass key. As she walked past the receptionist, who offered a standard "Goodnight, Ms. Goldberg," Jane didn't offer her usual polite nod. "I won't be in tomorrow, Sarah," Jane said,

Jane reached the elevator and pressed the button for the garage. She felt the weight of the brass key in her pocket, a secret heat against her hip. "I'm just going to go find someone I lost

She thought of her father’s voice, always telling her that legacy was built on stability. Then she looked back at the key. Stability was just another word for standing still, and Jane realized she had been motionless for far too long.

The drive toward the coast would take fourteen hours. Jane Goldberg didn't mind. For the first time in twenty years, she wasn't counting the minutes; she was finally making them count.