Chapter 7 - The Clock Strikes Three
At 3:12 PM, Mason’s battered blue pickup truck pulled up to the curb outside Willow Lane Elementary School.
The bell rang, and seconds later, dozens of children wearing bright backpacks spilled out through the heavy double doors into the autumn afternoon.
Mason stepped out of his truck, leaning against the door frame. The carbon dust was washed off his hands, but he was still wearing his working clothes.
From down the sidewalk, nine-year-old Nora came running, her purple backpack bouncing against her shoulders, her yellow scarf trailing behind her.
“Dad!” she yelled, throwing her arms around his waist.
Mason caught her, swinging her up into a big hug. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”
“We learned about volcanoes in science!” Nora beamed, pulling back to look at his face. She narrowed her eyes with that same unnerving intelligence she always possessed. “You look... different today.”
“Different how?” Mason smiled, setting her down.
“You don't look sad,” she said softly. “You look like you used to when you worked at the big building.”
Mason crouched down in front of her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s because I’m going back to the big building, Nora. But this time... I’m running the place.”
Nora’s eyes went wide. “Does that mean we can buy the green bike with the basket?”
Mason laughed—a deep, joyful sound that felt like it had been trapped in his chest for three long weeks. “We can buy the green bike, the basket, and all the ice cream you can eat.”
A sleek black Maybach sedan pulled up to the curb behind Mason’s truck.
The rear window glided down smoothly, revealing Victoria sitting in the back seat. She looked at Mason and Nora, offering a warm, quiet smile.
Nora squinted at the car. “Who is that, Dad?”
“That’s... my boss,” Mason said. “And a friend.”
Victoria stepped out of the car, walking slowly over to them. She reached into her leather purse and pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped box tied with a yellow ribbon.
“Hello, Nora,” Victoria said gently, kneeling on the sidewalk so she was at eye level with the young girl. “Your dad talked about you a lot when he worked with us.”
Nora looked at the box, then at Victoria. “Are you the lady who made my dad sad?”
Victoria’s smile faltered slightly, a shadow of genuine sorrow passing over her face. “I was,” she admitted honestly. “I made a very big mistake. But your dad showed me today how to be a better person.”
She handed the box to Nora.
Nora carefully unwrapped the paper and opened the lid. Inside was a shining, metallic model of an Apollo moon rocket, along with a small plastic astronaut identical to the one Mason had kept on his desk.
Nora looked up, her eyes sparkling. “It’s an astronaut!”
“Your dad told me you gave him one for his office,” Victoria said softy. “I thought you should have one, too.”
May you like
Nora looked at Victoria, then at Mason, who gave her an approving nod. “Thank you, Miss Victoria.”
“We’re going to Riverside Hospital now, Nora,” Mason said, taking his daughter’s hand. “We have to bring someone home.”
