Chapter 6 - The Ghost of East Hampton
Three weeks later, the Alpine mansion was listed for private sale. Marcus completely restructured his schedule, transferring his daily executive responsibilities to his senior partners at Hale Capital, reserving only the high-level advisory decisions for himself.
He relocated the family to the gray-shingled beach house in East Hampton—the one place that smelled of salt, cedar, and old memories of his brother.
Clara came with them, her title officially changing from housekeeper to estate manager, though her true role had become something much deeper. She was the bridge that connected Marcus to his niece.
One evening, a massive summer thunderstorm rolled over the Atlantic, the heavy boom of thunder shaking the glass windows of the beach house. Lily woke up screaming, her tiny voice filled with the terror of the rainy night she had lost her parents.
Clara sprang from her bed, but before she could reach the hallway, she saw Marcus running past. He burst into Lily’s room, dropping to his knees beside her bed, pulling the hysterical child into his arms.
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"I've got you, Lily. I've got you," Marcus choked out, his own eyes wet with tears as he rocked her. He looked up and saw Clara standing in the doorway, holding a warm blanket. "Clara... what do I do? She won't stop shaking."
Clara walked over, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She placed her hands over Marcus’s, stabilizing his trembling arms, and began to sing the soft, low lullaby she had sung for eighteen months. Slowly, the panic receded. Lily’s small hands shifted from clutching her stuffed elephant to holding onto Marcus’s collar, her face buried in her uncle's neck.
