Chapter 20 - The Road to Tomorrow
Autumn painted the Catskill mountains in brilliant shades of amber, gold, and crimson. The crisp October air smelled of woodsmoke and fallen leaves.
Briarwood was more alive than it had ever been. The front lawn was dotted with carved pumpkins, and Noah and Lily, wrapped in cozy wool sweaters, were racing through piles of dry leaves, their peals of laughter ringing up toward the clear sapphire sky.
Mrs. Gable stood on the veranda, holding a tray of hot apple cider with cinnamon sticks, watching the children with grandmotherly pride.
I walked down the gravel drive, holding a coffee cup, breathing in the intoxicating freedom of the autumn mountain air.
Victoria Sterling-Vance had been convicted in federal court three days ago on multiple counts of conspiracy and wire fraud, sentenced to ten years. Cole had been transferred to a medium-security facility in upstate New York, his petitions for parole permanently barred. Sierra was serving her sentence in Danbury.
Their shadows had evaporated like morning mist before the rising sun.
Daniel stepped out from the main hall, dressed in a tweed jacket, holding a leather folder under his arm. He walked down the stone path and joined me by the willow tree near the edge of the estate.
"The Canadian solicitors confirmed the address," Daniel said, his voice laced with quiet excitement. "Clara is twenty-six. She runs an independent pediatric art therapy clinic in Quebec. She lives simply, quietly, completely unaware that she is co-trustee of a multi-billion-dollar global clean energy empire."
I smiled, gazing at the distant mountain ridges. "We won't overwhelm her, Daniel. We won't bring lawyers or corporate paperwork. When the time comes, I will go to Montreal myself. Just a mother, a cousin, bringing a grandmother’s love."
"She will love you, Lauren," Daniel said warmly. "How could she not?"
Suddenly, the electronic chime of Briarwood's front gate rang softly through Daniel’s mobile handset.
We both paused. No visitors were expected. Estate security was now absolute, monitored twenty-four hours a day.
"Security dispatch," Daniel answered, tapping his earpiece. "Who is at the outer barrier?"
A moment of silence stretched over the garden.
Daniel’s brow furrowed. He looked at me, his eyes widening with profound, sudden astonishment.
"Daniel?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat. "Who is it?"
Daniel slowly lowered his phone, his voice hushed with wonder.
"Lauren... it’s an old vintage station wagon with Quebec plates. The driver just gave her name to the security gate."
I held my breath, the mountain breeze swirling golden leaves around our feet.
"Her name is Clara," Daniel whispered. "She says... she found a letter Margaret left in a safety deposit box that opened on her twenty-sixth birthday yesterday."
Down the long, winding gravel drive beneath the canopy of blazing red maples, the headlights of a solitary car flickered through the autumn trees, slowly making their way toward the steps of Briarwood.
May you like
I looked back at Noah and Lily laughing in the golden leaves, then turned toward the approaching car, my hand resting gently against the pearl at my throat.
The front gate closed behind her. The new chapter had just begun.
