Chapter 6 - The Unpacked Room

Three weeks later, the spring sunshine in Ashford was warm, golden, and completely uninterrupted by rain.

Inside the penthouse atop the Vane Tower, the atmosphere was entirely transformed. The heavy, oppressive silence that used to hang over the hallways had been replaced by the soft, infectious sound of a six-year-old child laughing while chasing a golden retriever puppy across the gleaming hardwood floors.

In Nora’s bedroom, the yellow curtains were drawn wide open, letting the morning light flood every corner of the room.

The moon-shaped nightlight sat plugged into the wall, glowing faintly even in daylight.

And in the center of the room, resting against the edge of her wardrobe, stood an open, empty navy blue canvas backpack.

Only it wasn't packed with clothes and toothbrushes anymore.

Nora had filled it to the brim with smooth river stones, colorful sidewalk chalk, three plastic dinosaurs, and a very battered, one-eyed stuffed elephant whose head was poking cheerfully out of the main zipper.

She walked over to the closet, picked up the backpack by its strap, and carried it down the hallway toward the massive kitchen island where Elias was pouring a cup of coffee while reviewing architectural blueprints for a new community park downtown.

Elias looked down as a small pair of shiny black patent-leather shoes stopped beside his knee.

“Elias?” Nora asked, her dark eyes wide and serious.

“Yes, Nora?” he asked, setting his coffee cup down and crouching to her eye level—the exact same way he had knelt in front of her in the luxury hotel lobby weeks ago.

Nora held out the navy backpack.

“Can we put this in the garage?” she asked quietly.

Elias gently took the canvas strap from her hand, feeling the weight of the rocks and toys inside. He didn't ask her why. He didn't need to.

“We don't need the garage, Nora,” Elias said, his voice warm and steady. “We don't need it at all.”

He walked over to the grand pantry near the back of the kitchen, opened the heavy oak door, and placed the backpack on the very top shelf, behind a row of unused serving platters and extra crystal glassware—pushed so far back that nobody would ever have to look at it again.

When he turned back around, Nora was watching him with a small, quiet smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Is it gone?” she asked.

“It’s stored away,” Elias said, walking back over and lifting her up into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder just the way he had done in the courtroom. “And the doors are locked, the windows are bolted, and nobody is ever leaving.”

Nora wrapped her small arms around his neck, burying her face against his collarbone, breathing in the scent of cedar and expensive cologne.

For the first time in her six years of life, she didn't check over her shoulder. She didn't look for an exit. She didn't listen for footsteps in the hall.

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She simply closed her eyes and held on.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the penthouse, the city of Ashford stretched out toward the glittering blue horizon of Lake Michigan—vast, beautiful, and entirely at peace.