Chapter 9 - Clear Skies over St. Charles
Three months later.
The old Vance estate in St. Charles looked entirely different under the bright winter sun.
The decaying timber structure had been completely torn down, replaced by a massive, state-of-the-art timber-and-glass residence designed personally by Lena. Surrounding the house were three hundred acres of pristine, protected forest, preserved permanently under a conservation trust bearing the name Rosalind & Maya Vance Reserve.
A snow-covered gravel driveway wound up to the main house, where two black SUVs were parked near the heated three-car garage.
Inside, the open-concept living room was warm, filled with the crackle of a massive stone fireplace and the scent of fresh pine and roast chicken.
I stood near the kitchen island, wearing a comfortable charcoal sweater, chopping fresh vegetables while Maya sat on a barstool beside me, diligently working on her third-grade math homework.
"Ethan," Maya said, tapping her pencil against her chin. "What's eight times seven?"
"Fifty-six," I answered without looking up.
"Are you sure?" she asked, narrowing her eyes suspicious. "Mama said you're good at money, but math is different."
I let out a low laugh, reaching over to ruffle her dark hair. "I assure you, Maya, I know my multiplication tables."
In the living room, Lena sat in a plush leather armchair, holding six-month-old Rosie, who was giggling hysterically as Lena blew bubbles against her chubby cheeks. Rosie was thriving, her health completely restored, her dark eyes bright with curiosity.
Lena looked over toward the kitchen, her smile warm and content.
"How’s the sauce coming, Chef?" she called out.
"It's coming fine," I replied, setting the knife down and walking over to the living room. I sat on the wide wooden armrest of her chair, resting my hand gently on Lena’s shoulder.
She leaned her head back against my hip, looking up at me.
"Arthur called this morning," Lena said softly. "He said the final paperwork for the adoption went through. You’re officially Maya’s legal father."
I looked over at the kitchen island, where Maya was currently using her fingers to count fifty-six. A quiet, profound sense of pride settled deep in my chest.
"She’s going to be a tough negotiator when she grows up," I said.
May you like
"She gets that from you," Lena smiled, reaching up to take my hand. "We all survived, Ethan. I still can't believe it sometimes."
"We didn't just survive, Lena," I said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her lips. "We won."
