6. Conclusion: The New Horizon
One Year Later
The balcony overlooked the Mediterranean, not the Pacific. The water here was a startling turquoise, calm and warm. The air smelled of lemon trees and sea salt, not funeral lilies.
Clara sat on the wrought-iron chair, her leg propped up on a cushion. The surgery in Zurich had been successful; the limp was barely a fade in her step now. But she kept the cane in the corner of the room—a reminder.
On the table in front of her lay a letter. The envelope was stamped with the seal of the State Correctional Facility. The handwriting was jagged, frantic. Vanessa.
It was the third letter this month. Clara hadn’t opened any of them.
Liam walked out onto the balcony, carrying two espressos. He was tan, relaxed. The lines of tension that had defined his face for five years were gone, smoothed away by the Italian sun and the peace of a life lived in truth.
He set the coffee down and saw the letter. He stiffened slightly, his protective instinct flaring.
“She’s writing again?”