The cabin felt different since the earthquake. Shadows stretched longer, the air heavier, and none of them had slept properly in days. Roman was the first to admit it: “The ground keeps moving in my dreams. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
Jas, exhausted and irritable, snapped, “That’s because you snore like a bear. I can’t sleep because of you!”
Ivy Mae tried to mediate, suggesting they focus on practical tasks. “We need to start packing. That crack by the cabin isn’t safe, and we’ll need supplies ready if it gets worse.”
As they sorted through old boxes and gear, Jas suddenly froze. “Uh… guys? What’s this?”
They carefully lifted a small, leather-bound diary from the pile. The pages were yellowed, the ink slightly faded, but Jas recognized the handwriting immediately. “This belonged to my Great Great Aunty Tina She was a photographer.”
Inside, tucked between the pages, was a folded poster. When they spread it out, the bold, defiant words stood out:
WOMEN’S MARCH 2025 – STAND TOGETHER, BUY NOTHING, CHANGE EVERYTHING.
Beneath it, a photograph showed a sea of people marching through the streets of Vancouver, fists raised, banners waving. The notes scrawled along the margins told the story: the day Canada proved it wouldn’t let Trump’s bullying dictate its future. February 28th had come and gone without a single dollar spent by those who stood for change. The markets crashed. The world took notice. Unity had won.
Roman let out a low whistle. “Damn. That was the moment, wasn’t it?”
Jas nodded, running their fingers over the old paper. “Yeah. And maybe… maybe it’s time we remembered what people can do when they stand together.”
Ivy Mae straightened. “Then let’s start by making sure we’re ready for whatever comes next.”