Bev’s character looms large in these chapters and remains an embodiment of The Deep Roots of Resilience and Survival. In a meeting with her superior officer that she assumes will result in her termination, she is instead commended for her hard work and told to take some much-deserved time off. Besides vindicating Bev’s work throughout the case, the exchange marks the resolution of the novel’s consideration of gender inequality in the workplace, thus highlighting Bev’s strength throughout her career. Bev appreciates men like the colonel, who, as a representation of a new generation and a brighter future, stands in marked contrast to Bev’s recollection of past injustices. These include the many years she spent wearing uniforms designed for men: There were so few female officers that the state did not bother to provide women with clothes cut for the shape of their bodies. Bev has overcome much, and although she is happy that a new generation of women will have an easier time on the job, she is proud of the way that she turned difficulty into resilience.

Bev also has the chance to reconnect with her family as the novel continues its exploration of The Complexity of Mother-Daughter Bonds. Devoted to work throughout her life, she knows that she has been largely absent from her family’s life, and she feels guilty about it. She and her sisters spend time together now to help their mother through the end of her life, reinforcing that despite the complexity of the familial connection, it remains meaningful. While Bev continues to extend their mother grace for her faults, she is touched by her sisters’ gratitude, especially when one of them tells her, “Come on Bevie, when I was little you were more of a mommy to me than anyone” (270). Bev’s career in a male-dominated field has trained her not to seek recognition, but she finds that she appreciates hearing how aware her sisters were of all the parenting work that she took on when their mother was unable to.

Indeed, that role itself serves as a point of connection to her mother, teaching her something about what motherhood entails while underscoring the way her experiences with her mother have shaped her: “The real mother, the mother that you get, you’ve got to love her, there’s no choice. She is the mother you needed. She gave you strength, either because she loved you well or because she loved you poorly. She gave you your mission” (273). As Bev now realizes, despite the disconnect she has often felt from stereotypically “female” experiences, part of that “mission” was helping to raise her sisters.

The complexity of mother-daughter bonds also shapes the end of Lena’s narrative arc. After her epiphany in the previous set of chapters, Lena calls her daughter, and while Christine is not interested in rekindling their relationship, she does allow Lena to have a relationship with her son, Austin. Lena throws herself into supporting her grandson, and the two develop a genuine bond that retroactively transforms Lena and Christine’s relationship. As Lena observes, “The similarities between Lena and Austin are embarrassingly clear. […] This realization makes her feel an intimacy with Christine, who has lived with this irony for years” (294). Like the resolution of Bev’s arc, this suggests that even fraught familial dynamics can contain seeds of healing and understanding.

As part of her broader recognition of the value of human connection, Lena also reaches out to her peers. Having learned how interested her fellow residents all are in memoirs, Lena forms and leads a life-writing club. She thus meets her peers where they are, forming a club that she knows they will be interested in. In addition, she and Warren are closer, and she better recognizes the role that he plays in her life, making their relationship more reciprocal.

Valerie’s arc also ends on a high note, and not simply because she has been rescued. Although she nearly died, Valerie ultimately views her trek as an opportunity to reflect, change, and re-direct the course of her life. In her note to Bev, Valerie remarks, “Sometimes, the sound of the wind in the trees takes me back to the woods” (301)—a comment that could easily segue into discussion of a traumatic flashback. Instead, however, Valerie observes that her experience has enriched her life substantially. Her note thus captures the duality of Nature as Both Sanctuary and Adversary, once again suggesting that these two faces of the natural world are not as opposed as they might seem.