Chapter 9 - Shadows in the Rearview
That evening, after the grand opening celebrations had concluded and the families had settled into the new community center, Damon sat in the back of his car as Marcus drove them toward the northern estate.
Mia had fallen asleep in the seat beside him, her head resting comfortably on Damon’s lap, her fingers loosely curled around the silver locket resting against her chest. Barnaby, now a massive, gentle golden retriever, slept on the floorboards by her feet, his tail giving an occasional lazy thump.
Damon stroked Mia’s soft hair, watching the city lights blur past the tinted window.
Marcus glanced into the rearview mirror. “Damon.”
“Yeah, Marcus?”
“I received an update from the state correctional facility this afternoon,” Marcus said quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping child. “Elisa Rochefort’s parole application was reviewed today.”
Damon’s expression remained calm, devoid of the burning fury that had consumed him two years ago. “And?”
“Denied,” Marcus replied. “The review board cited a complete lack of remorse and repeated disciplinary infractions at the transitional facility. She will serve her full sentence, including her remaining community labor hours cleaning municipal facilities.”
Damon looked out the window at the distant skyline.
There had been a time in his life when news of an enemy’s continued suffering would have brought him a cold sense of satisfaction. When he had first dragged Mia out of the gala, his heart had been an engine of pure vengeance, fueled by the desire to crush the Rocheforts beneath the weight of their own crimes.
But looking down at his daughter’s peaceful face, Damon realized that vengeance was an empty meal. It was bitter, cold, and left a man starving for purpose.
The true victory hadn't been watching Julian Rochefort led away in federal chains, nor was it seeing Elisa’s vanity shattered on national television.
The true victory was this: a little girl who no longer flinched when footsteps approached. A little girl who never went to bed wondering if there would be food tomorrow. A child who knew she was loved, valued, and safe.
“Let the state handle the Rocheforts, Marcus,” Damon said quietly. “They don't exist to us anymore. Our only job is the future.”
Marcus smiled slightly, nodding as he steered the car through the great iron gates of the estate. “Understood, boss.”
The car came to a smooth stop beneath the grand portico of the manor. The warm yellow lights of the house spilled across the stone driveway, welcoming them home.
Damon gently lifted Mia into his arms, being careful not to wake her. Barnaby hopped out of the car, trotting happily toward the front doors where the housekeeper stood waiting with a warm smile.
Damon carried his daughter up the grand staircase, down the carpeted hallway lined with framed photographs of Mia’s birthdays, school plays, and summer beach trips, and into her bedroom.
He laid her down on her bed beneath the soft lavender quilt, slipping off her little shoes.
As he pulled the blanket up to her chin, Mia stirred slightly. Her hazel eyes fluttered open in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
“Daddy?” she whispered sleepily.
“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Damon whispered back, smoothing her blanket.
“Can we make a cake tomorrow?” she asked, a faint, sleepy smile curling her lips. “A big one? With strawberries?”
Damon chuckled softly, his heart swelling with an emotion so deep and profound it brought warmth to his entire chest.
“We can make the biggest cake in the world, Mia,” Damon said, kissing her forehead. “With as many strawberries as you want.”
“Good…” Mia sighed, her eyes closing again as she drifted back into a deep, untroubled sleep. “Because that cake… is for everyone.”
May you like
“Yes, it is,” Damon whispered in the dark room.
***
