Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,55

they heard the announcements for the first wave to start.

Excitement warmed her blood, and she said, “I wish we could see the top runners. I heard that there’s supposed to be a close competition between the Ethiopian and the Nigerian teams that are here.”

“They'll have them on TV, so we can watch them later.”

After another twenty minutes, wave two was called to approach the starting point. Finding a place that wasn’t as crowded, they continued their warm-up exercises.

The next thirty minutes passed quickly, and they then moved with thousands of others toward the end of the park. Since their race time wouldn’t start until the electronic timing device on their bib began counting, it didn’t matter what time they actually crossed the starting line.

By the time wave three was ready to start, she said, “I would have given anything to have seen Caitlin, Bekki, and Brianna.” Shrugging, she said, “Oh, well. Maybe we'll see them sometime along the course.”

“That wouldn't surprise me. I know they've been training, but they've all admitted that this marathon will be a push, and they’re just excited to be able to finish.”

“Well, I've got my cell phone and smartwatch with the app. I promised Caitlyn that if I did catch up, we'd run together for a moment so that we could take a selfie.”

As they moved toward the starting line, the excitement was palpable, runners smiling and offering words of encouragement to each other. Finally, the ones in front of them began running. She sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and with a squeeze on her hand from Torin, they began to run.

16

A sense of freedom filled Erin. An emotion she hadn’t experienced in so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to suck in the fresh air on a day filled with blue skies and sunshine. To be thankful for each breath. To be humbled that her body was whole and able. That her heart, not shriveled and broken, was pounding in her chest, pumping blood to every limb, all working in concert to propel her in a direction of her own choosing.

For each step forward, she could feel the past slipping further behind her. A red-headed man ran past her in the crowd of runners, and a flash of John flew through her mind. For the first time in a year, she didn’t feel guilt. She knew he would want her to live. To run, and work, and laugh, and live. And to love. It had been so long since she’d thought past his horrific ending to remember that he loved life, and she had no doubt he would want her to live it to the fullest.

It took a clear, early spring day where her world was filled with the activity of over thirty-thousand fellow humans all sharing the experience of moving their bodies toward a common goal to remember that life was precious, and John would want her to embrace it.

Glancing to the side, she saw that Torin’s gaze was pinned on her, a slight smile on his lips. “You look happy, babe,” he said as their feet kept time, slapping against the pavement.

“I am,” she said. She didn’t waste the breath or energy trying to explain, but her heart was filled with excitement at the sight of him beside her. A new chance at love. Is that what this is? While she had no immediate answer to that question, her smile widened, and she faced forward again, embracing the day.

“God, look at all these people,” Torin said, drawing her attention to the sidewalks lining the streets. They were crowded with spectators clanging cowbells, blowing whistles, shouting words of encouragement, and clapping. Some were hanging out of windows above, shouts and music filling the air.

“It’s crazy,” she enthused, wishing she knew where her parents were going to be. They’d mentioned avoiding the Inner Harbor but thought they’d stand near the intersection close to the Celtic Cock. Torin had told her that he had instructed his sister to use the app to keep up with him and then she and his grandparents could leave the pub and walk down the street to cheer him on when he neared. She glanced at her smartwatch, seeing the dots on the racecourse indicating where she was as well as Caitlyn’s location ahead.

She worked to steady her breathing, keeping her pace even during the first six miles, knowing she was only about a fourth of the way through. A movement to the side