Chapter 12 - THE DAY WE STOPPED RUNNING FROM THE PAST
Three years after Lauren’s death, the final criminal case ended.
Graham Vale was sentenced.
Charles’s role was formally documented.
Peter Sloan remained incarcerated.
Rebecca completed her cooperation agreement.
The investigation closed.
Detective Alvarez called me.
“It’s over.”
I expected relief.
Instead, I felt empty.
For years, there had always been another document.
Another suspect.
Another lie.
Now there was only life.
That frightened me more than expected.
Annie understood.
“You got used to fighting.”
“Yes.”
“So stop.”
“Just like that?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“But eventually.”
We sold the enormous Westchester estate.
The house held too much silence.
Too many locked doors.
Too many cameras.
Instead, we bought a home closer to the city.
Still large.
I was still a billionaire.
Annie refused to let me pretend otherwise.
But it felt like a house.
Not a museum.
The twins chose adjacent bedrooms.
Grace got the room between ours and theirs.
There were fingerprints on windows.
Toys in hallways.
Shoes everywhere.
I loved every mess.
Before moving, we held one final dinner at the old estate.
Lauren’s parents came.
My mother.
Rebecca, under supervision conditions that still restricted travel.
Caleb.
Detective Alvarez.
People who had survived the worst parts of our story.
After dinner, Jordan disappeared upstairs.
He returned carrying Lauren’s framed photograph.
“Can this come?”
I knelt.
“Of course.”
“To new house?”
“Yes.”
Justin joined us.
“Where does Mommy go?”
The question almost broke me.
Annie answered.
“Somewhere everyone can see her.”
So Lauren’s photograph went into the new family room.
Not hidden.
Not worshiped.
Included.
Months passed.
One Saturday, Morrison Dynamics hosted a family picnic.
Years earlier I would have spent the entire event talking to investors.
Now I stood beside a children’s soccer field screaming:
“JUSTIN, WRONG GOAL!”
He kicked anyway.
The other team scored.
Justin celebrated.
Annie laughed beside me.
Jordan approached carrying Grace.
“She ate grass.”
“What?”
Grace smiled.
Green around her mouth.
I sighed.
“This is why I run a technology company.”
Annie kissed my cheek.
“You’re doing great.”
That evening we sat outside.
The children chased fireflies.
I looked at Annie.
“Do you regret coming to work for me?”
“Yes.”
I stared.
She laughed.
“For approximately the first twelve hours.”
“Only twelve?”
“Then Justin spilled orange juice inside your piano.”
“I remember.”
“You looked like somebody had assassinated a senator.”
“It was a Steinway.”
She leaned against me.
“No.”
“What?”
“I don’t regret it.”
I watched our children.
“Neither do I.”
“Even knowing why I came?”
“Especially knowing.”
She looked up.
“Why?”
“Because you came looking for the truth.”
I kissed her.
“And you stayed for us.”
She rested her head against my shoulder.
For the first time since Lauren’s death, there was no investigation waiting tomorrow.
No enemy.
No secret.
Just fireflies.
May you like
Children laughing.
And the woman who had taught us how to stay.
