Chapter 20 - The Eighth Birthday
One year later. June 14th.
The backyard was once again filled with the chaotic, joyful noise of thirty neighborhood children, loud music, and the smell of sizzling burgers from Adam’s grill.
Victor Sterling had been convicted on all federal counts in April, sentenced to twenty-eight years in a maximum-security penitentiary without possibility of parole. His pharmaceutical empire had been dismantled, and a substantial portion of his seized personal assets had been placed into an irrevocable educational trust fund for June and her siblings.
Claire Sterling had accepted a plea agreement, pleading guilty to custodial interference, and was serving an eight-year sentence at a minimum-security medical facility, undergoing intensive psychiatric treatment. Julian Croft was serving life without parole for the murder of Kenneth Vance.
Highland Manor was sold at auction. Its gates had been torn down.
In our backyard, the picnic table was covered with a bright yellow tablecloth.
In the center sat a massive four-tiered cake—one tier for each child, decorated with strawberries, chocolate chips, vanilla frosting, and rainbow sprinkles.
Four number-eight candles burned brightly in the center, their flames dancing in the warm summer breeze.
"Okay, everyone!" Uncle Ben shouted, holding up his phone to record. "Sing it loud!"
The backyard erupted into song:
*"Happy birthday to you,*
*Happy birthday to you,*
*Happy birthday, dear Caleb, Nora, Tess, and June...*
*Happy birthday to you!"*
The crowd cheered and clapped.
Around the table, four chairs were set.
Not three.
Four.
In the first chair sat Caleb, grinning with blue frosting on his nose. In the second sat Nora, clapping her hands with delight. In the third sat Tess, holding her rescue kitten in her lap.
And in the fourth chair sat June.
Her hair was tied back with a bright yellow ribbon. Her cheeks were flushed pink from running through the sprinklers with her sisters. Her eyes shone with an easy, radiant joy that belonged to a child who knew, without a single doubt, exactly who she was and where she belonged.
"Make a wish, guys!" Adam called out from beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
The four children leaned over the table together, their heads nearly touching over the glowing candles.
June looked across the frosting at Nora, Caleb, and Tess.
"Together?" June asked.
"Together," all three replied as one.
With one giant, unified breath, the quadruplets blew out the eight candles. The smoke curled upward toward the clear blue summer sky, dissolving into the warm afternoon air.
There were no empty chairs.
May you like
There were no missing names.
The fourth place at our table was filled, forever.
