Chapter 9 - The Clearing of the Fog
Six months later.
The summer sun was warm over Westchester, turning the dark waters of the Hudson River into a sparkling sheet of sapphire blue. The lawns of the Blackwood estate were covered in wild green grass, and the massive stone portico was open to the warm river breeze.
The grand entrance hall was no longer a museum.
A large, colorful rug lay in the center of the marble floor, covered in plastic dinosaurs, wooden train tracks, and a bright red tricycle that Ethan had learned to ride without his leg braces.
A photo of my mother sat on the mantle of the fireplace in the library, next to a photo of Ethan’s mother, both of them smiling in the warm yellow light of the sun.
I stood on the back terrace, wearing a simple white sundress, my hair falling in soft, clean curls around my shoulders. The silver chain with the gold earring was still around my neck, but the cold, heavy shadow that had hung over me since the day my mother died had finally melted away.
Ethan was running through the grass with Clover, his crutches lying forgotten near the steps of the terrace.
His legs were still thin, and he walked with a slight, rocking step, but he didn't fall. He moved with a quiet, stubborn strength that he had learned from his father—and from the girl who had found him in the park.
"Lily! Look!" Ethan called out, pointing toward the sky.
A red-tailed hawk was soaring high above the river, its wings catching the warm summer wind.
"I see it, Ethan!" I called back.
Maxwell walked out of the house, wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked relaxed, the lines of exhaustion around his eyes completely gone, his face bright with a peace he had never thought possible.
He walked over and stood beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder.
"The final adoption decree arrived this morning, Lily," Maxwell said softly, his blue eyes warm. "You are officially a Blackwood."
I looked up at him, my eyes filling with tears that had nothing to do with sadness. "Thank you, Dad."
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He pulled me into a warm, tight hug, his cheek resting against my hair.
"You don't have to thank me, Lily," he whispered. "You're my daughter. You've always been my daughter since the second you gave my son your coat."
