Chapter 10 - The Garden in the Sun
Spring came late to Long Island that year, but by May, the cold winter winds off the Sound had given way to warm, soft breezes smelling of sea salt and blooming lilac.
The west wing of the estate was no longer dark.
The heavy velvet drapes had been pulled back, letting bright afternoon sunlight flood through the tall windows onto clean wooden floors. The smell of stale smoke and copper was gone, replaced by the scent of fresh white paint, open windows, and lemon wood oil.
I sat on the wide stone terrace overlooking the rear lawn.
Dante was gone. He was currently residing in a federal detention facility in Brooklyn, awaiting trial on twenty-four counts of wire fraud, grand larceny, and corporate extortion. The Moretti firm had been restructured, its dark logistics operations severed and sold off, leaving only the legitimate commercial shipping lines—a clean, honest business that ran smoothly without violence or fear.
On the long wooden table beside my armchair sat a small wooden box made of polished cedar.
Inside the box lay three gold-plated novelty coins, clean and shining under the spring sun.
A dark green station wagon pulled up the gravel driveway, stopping near the terrace steps.
The door opened, and Clara Romano stepped out.
She was dressed in a simple, elegant blue summer dress, her dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her face smooth, relaxed, and full of color. She looked ten years younger than the exhausted, terrified maid who had scrubbed my floors five months ago.
She reached back into the car, opened the rear door, and out stepped eight-year-old Ellie.
Ellie was wearing a bright red dress, her hair pulled back into two neat pigtails. Under her arm, she clutched a brand-new plush golden retriever puppy that was squirming happily, its small pink tongue licking her cheek as she giggled.
"Mr. Vincent!" Ellie shouted, running up the stone steps toward the terrace, her small leather shoes clicking against the flagstones.
I stood up from my chair, a genuine, wide smile spreading across my face—a smile that felt natural, warm, and free of pain.
"Hello, little one," I said, dropping to one knee as she ran into my arms, wrapping her small arms around my neck while the puppy barked happily at our feet.
Clara walked up the steps, carrying a small basket of fresh strawberries from the farm stand down the road.
"How was the drive from Vermont?" I asked, standing up and greeting Clara with a warm kiss on both cheeks.
"Beautiful," Clara said, looking out over the green lawn toward the blue waters of the Sound. "The house is wonderful, Vince. Ellie starts her new school in September. She's already made three friends down the road."
"Good," I said, my heart swelling with a deep, quiet satisfaction. "That's how it should be."
Ellie walked over to the wooden table, her dark eyes landing on the small cedar box resting near my tea glass.
She reached out, her tiny fingers opening the lid, looking down at the three gold coins resting on the red velvet lining.
She looked up at me, her brown eyes shining in the spring sun.
"Are those new magic coins, Mr. Vincent?" she asked.
I knelt down beside her, reaching into the box and picking up one of the gold pieces, placing it gently into her small hand.
"They're always magic, Ellie," I told her softly, looking over her head toward the quiet blue sky above the ocean. "As long as you use them to take care of the people you love."
May you like
Ellie looked at the coin in her palm, then looked at her mother, then looked at me, her face lighting up with a bright, beautiful smile that carried no fear, no shadow, and no sorrow.
And for the first time in seven years, as the warm sea breeze rustled through the green trees of the estate, I felt my daughter's presence not as a ghost haunting a dark house, but as a warm, lingering light standing beside us in the sun.
