### Chapter 8 "Let’s hit the road." The engine of their car roared to life as it swiftly pulled away from the manor, carving through the morning haze and heading towards the airport. Thorne’s return to their homeland was cloaked in secrecy, leaving Charlene blissfully unaware. Not a soul had breathed a word of his imminent arrival. Weeks had slipped through her fingers since she vacated the manor, during which she had slowly yet surely embraced a life marked by tranquility and solitude. It was a languid Saturday morning when the world outside stirred her from her slumber. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she peeled back the curtains to greet a golden sun spilling warmth into her cozy abode. With a long stretch that arched her back like a cat, Charlene ambled over to her beloved plants, giving each a sip of water. The kitchen beckoned, urging her to create a simple breakfast filled with the promise of a leisurely day ahead. Just as she began to ponder her menu, the unexpected chime of the doorbell broke her reverie. Peering through the peephole, she recognized Mrs. Sullivan, her friendly neighbor from across the hall. "Ms. Ross, I hope I didn’t wake you?" the older woman inquired, her voice brimming with warmth. Charlene smiled, her heart light. “Not at all. I was already up.” "That's a relief!" Mrs. Sullivan beamed, shifting her basket slightly. "I brought over some freshly baked muffins and apple pies. I thought you might enjoy trying them." Her generosity was a balm for Charlene's spirit. “Thank you, that’s incredibly kind of you.” “Oh, it’s the least I could do after you saved our Sally from that wild dog the other day. My husband and I have been meaning to thank you properly, but work has kept us so busy. I’ve felt terrible!” Charlene chuckled softly, brushing off the compliment. “Really, it was nothing, Mrs. Sullivan. You’re too kind.” With friendly parting words, Mrs. Sullivan returned to her apartment, leaving Charlene feeling buoyed by the encounter. She settled at her dining table, a quaint space lined with books and her laptop, diving into the latest developments of an AI project she had been meticulously studying. As the afternoon sun slanted through her window, a notification pinged on her phone, pulling her attention away from the screen. It was a reminder about Starlight University’s centenary celebration—a momentous event that stirred her heart. Checking the date, reality hit her hard; the university was celebrating a hundred years of excellence. The hashtag #StarlightUniversityCentenary trended across social media, filled with posts that encapsulated the vibrancy of the occasion. The excitement surrounding Starlight’s anniversary was palpable, not just because it stood as the pinnacle of education in the country, but also due to its first-ever centenary, attracting esteemed alumni back to its hallowed grounds. As she scrolled through the images, familiar faces from her past appeared like ghosts, igniting a flurry of memories that danced around her heart. A wave of longing crashed over her. Had her life taken a different turn—had she not rushed into marriage straight after graduation—would she have been one of those honored alumni, relishing the festivities? With thoughts swirling and her heart racing, she shut her laptop, a blend of trepidation and determination compelling her to drive to the university. Upon her arrival, the campus buzzed with life, even though the majority of VIP guests had filtered away. As she wandered through the grounds, nostalgia wrapped around her like a familiar cloak. Standing beneath the towering science building, a voice sliced through the memories, drawing her back to the present. “Charlene?” Twenty minutes later, they found themselves seated at a quaint café nestled nearby. Stewart Ferguson, a familiar face tinged with concern, poured her a cup of aromatic coffee. “How have you been?” he asked, his tone genuinely inquisitive. Charlene cradled the warm mug in her hands, a faint smile gracing her lips. “Pretty good, just… getting a divorce.” The shock that washed over Stewart’s features was unmistakable. “I’m really sorry to hear that,” he murmured, genuine empathy shining in his eyes. “It’s okay,” she responded, her heart heavy yet oddly calm. “What are your plans now? Are you considering returning to the company?” he probed, hope lacing his inquiry. Charlene hesitated, her mind racing. “I’ve thought about it, but…” Stewart leaned in closer, his sincerity palpable. “Charlene, the company needs you. You’re an integral part of it, and I truly believe you can lead us back to where we belong.” His earnest gaze pierced through her uncertainty, a mix of emotions swirling within her. It wasn’t that she was disinterested; rather, the rapid advancements in AI over the past six years made her feel like a relic from the past. Fear gripped her—could she truly take the reins again? Lead a team she once thrived in at the forefront of innovation? Breaking the silence, she finally whispered, “I… I’m not sure if I can.”