Chapter 10 - The Bridge That Never Falls
Ten years later, the North Side Transit Bridge remained the crowning architectural achievement of the city, a masterpiece of modern engineering that carried hundreds of thousands of commuters across the gleaming river every single day.
On a crisp autumn afternoon, an eighteen-year-old university student stood at the pedestrian overlook of the bridge, her dark hair catching the autumn breeze, holding a thick architectural notebook in her hands.
Madison Clarke looked down at the flowing water below, tracing her fingers along the steel cables of the suspension span. Her mind wasn't on the traffic or the noise of the city, but on the enduring truth her father had taught her: that no matter how deep the chasm or how heavy the weight, a structure built with absolute truth will always hold.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text message from an unknown, encrypted number originating from Zurich.
“The foundation holds. Happy birthday, architect.”
May you like
Madison smiled, looking out toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to set in a brilliant blaze of gold and amber. She typed back a single, quiet reply.
“Always.”
