Chapter 9 - The Recovery of the Soul
Six months later.
The spring had come to Detroit, melting the ice and turning the shores of Lake St. Clair into a paradise of green grass and blooming wild cherries.
The Cross Estate was no longer a silent, cold fortress.
The tall arched windows were wide open, letting in the warm breeze and the sound of children's laughter. A massive wooden play structure sat on the lawn, complete with a double slide and a sandbox.
Laya and Clara were currently running through the sprinklers, their laughter echoing across the water. Laya was wearing a beautiful yellow sundress, her chapped cheeks completely healed, her green eyes bright with health and happiness. Clara was holding her hand, the two girls inseparable since the night of the storm.
On the terrace, Julian sat in a wicker chair, a cup of coffee in his hand. Beside him sat Evelyn Monroe.
She looked beautiful, her skin glowing, her strength completely returned after months of private medical care that Julian had insisted on paying for. She wore a simple white linen dress, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
"They look like sisters," Evelyn smiled, watching the girls play.
"They are sisters," Julian said quietly, his winter-black eyes warm as he looked at her. "In every way that matters."
"Julian," Evelyn said, taking his hand. "I still don't know how to thank you. You gave us a life. You gave my daughter a future."
"No, Evelyn," Julian said, his voice thick with a deep, sincere gratitude. "Laya gave me a life. She found my money in the trash, but more importantly, she found my heart. She showed me that the only wealth worth having is the people we protect."
The heavy oak doors of the terrace opened, and Arthur Pendelton stepped out, carrying a small, silver tray. On it sat a single, damp piece of paper—the original eighty-dollar prescription that Laya had carried in her pocket during the blizzard.
"We found this in the old tenement during the clean-up, sir," Arthur said with a smile. "I thought you might want to keep it."
May you like
Julian took the paper, smoothing it flat. He looked at the red writing, then at the two girls laughing in the sunshine.
"Frame it, Arthur," Julian said. "And hang it in the main hall. Let it be the first thing people see when they enter this house."
