The bus smelled like stale coffee and worn leather seats. Alex Whitmore sat near the back, his backpack wedged between his feet and a duffel bag taking up the seat beside him. Through the window, the city skyline had long since disappeared, replaced by rolling hills and scattered farms. Trees lined the highway now, their leaves turning gold and orange in the late September afternoon.
He checked his phone for the hundredth time that day. The email was still there, unchanged.
*"Congratulations! You have been accepted to Amber Town Polytechnic..."*
Twenty-five years old, and this was his first acceptance letter. Ever.
Alex let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes. Four years of applications. Dozens of universities across the country. Every single one had sent the same polite rejection—*"Thank you for your interest, but we regret to inform you..."*
His parents had stopped asking after the second year. His friends had moved on—graduated, found careers, started lives. And Alex? He'd bounced between warehouse jobs, delivery driving, and bartending shifts that paid just enough to cover rent in a cramped city apartment he shared with two other guys.
He'd felt like a failure for so long that the weight of it had become normal.
Then Linda's letter arrived.
*"Dear Alex, I hope this finds you well. I know it's been years since we've spoken, but I need to ask for your help..."*
Linda Chen. His late uncle's ex-wife. Technically not even family anymore after the divorce three years ago, but she'd stayed in Amber Town, kept the family name in spirit if not legally, and had been managing his grandfather's old massage parlor ever since the old man passed away.
The letter had been honest, almost painfully so. The business was dying. She couldn't keep it running anymore—not with her job at the bookstore and her own exhaustion weighing her down. The building, the equipment, the client list—it would all go to waste unless someone took over.
*"Your grandfather always spoke highly of you,"* she'd written. *"He believed you had potential, even when things were hard. I think he'd want you to have this chance."*
A chance. That's what this was.
Alex opened his eyes as the bus slowed, turning off the highway onto a smaller road. A wooden sign appeared on the roadside: **WELCOME TO AMBER TOWN - POPULATION 18,000.**
His stomach tightened.
This was it. No going back now.
---
The bus station was barely a station at all—just a covered bench and a small shelter next to a parking lot. Three other passengers got off with Alex, all of them older folks with shopping bags and tired expressions. They dispersed quickly, greeting people who'd come to pick them up.
Alex stood alone with his bags, looking around.
Amber Town stretched out before him like something from a postcard. The main street was visible from here, lined with small shops and cafes. People walked at an unhurried pace, stopping to chat with neighbors. There were flower boxes beneath windows, hand-painted signs, and not a single chain store in sight.
It was so different from the city that Alex felt like he'd stepped into another world.
His phone buzzed.
**Linda:** *Just finished at the bookstore. I'll meet you at the spa in 20 minutes. It's on Maple Street—two blocks from the town center. You can't miss it.*
Alex shouldered his backpack and grabbed his duffel bag. Time to see what he'd gotten himself into.
---
Maple Street was quiet and tree-lined, just like Linda had said. The houses here were older, traditional buildings with wooden frames and small front gardens. A few had been converted into businesses—a dentist's office, a small law firm, a café with outdoor seating.
And then he saw it.
**Whitmore Herbal Massage.**
The sign was faded, the paint peeling in places. The building itself was two stories, with wooden siding that had once been white but now looked more like dull gray. The windows were clean enough, but the curtains inside looked old. A small garden sat out front, overgrown with weeds and wildflowers that had gone to seed.
It looked... tired.
Alex stopped on the sidewalk, staring up at it.
This was his grandfather's legacy. This was his second chance.
It looked like it needed a miracle.
"Alex?"
He turned.
Linda stood a few feet away, a soft smile on her face. She looked older than he remembered—but then again, it had been seven or eight years since he'd last seen her at a family gathering. She was in her early forties now, dressed simply in jeans and a cardigan, her dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. There were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before, and a certain sadness in the way she carried herself.
But her smile was genuine.
"Linda," Alex said, managing a smile of his own. "It's good to see you."
She stepped forward and pulled him into a brief hug. "You too. I'm so glad you came."
When she pulled back, her eyes searched his face. "You look tired."
"Long trip," Alex said.
"Well, come on. Let me show you inside."