Chapter 7 - THE REBUILDING OF HOMESix months later. Autumn on Long Island.
The Starks estate had undergone a total transformation.
The dark, imposing iron gates had been repainted in bright white. The heavy black surveillance vans that used to sit in the driveway were replaced by lush green gardens, a playground with swings and a sandbox, and a new glass conservatory overlooking the ocean.
In the east wing nursery, the old furniture had been donated.
The walls were now painted a soft, warm lavender with hand-painted clouds and golden stars on the ceiling.
Sitting on the wide window seat, surrounded by sunlight, were Lily and Rose.
Their cheeks were full, healthy, and rosy. The dark circles beneath their eyes had vanished completely, replaced by bright, sparkling laughter.
Sitting between them was Maya.
She was wearing cozy blue jeans and a soft cream sweater, helping Rose tie a yellow ribbon around the neck of a brand-new, handmade plush bunny rabbit—a rabbit Maya had sewn herself, filled with soft lavender petals and zero electronics.
"Is this bunny magic, Maya?" Lily asked, holding the toy against her cheek.
"No, sweetie," Maya smiled, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind Lily’s ear. "It’s just cotton and love. No magic required."
"And no buzzing?" Rose asked quietly.
Maya took Rose’s small hand and placed it gently over the bunny's chest. "No buzzing ever again. I checked every stitch myself."
The heavy oak nursery door opened softly.
Rory walked into the room. He had dropped his dark suits for a comfortable charcoal sweater and jeans. He looked ten years younger, the tension in his shoulders gone, his dark eyes warm as he looked at the three of them.
"Daddy!" both girls squealed, jumping off the window seat and running into his open arms.
Rory lifted them both with ease, spinning them around while they giggled hysterically, before setting them back down on the plush rug.
"Go wash your hands for lunch, girls," Rory said gently. "Mrs. Higgins made warm apple pie."
"YAY! APPLE PIE!" the twins cheered, holding hands as they raced out of the nursery into the hallway, their light footsteps echoing happily through the house.
Rory walked over to the window seat where Maya was sitting.
He leaned against the wooden frame, looking down at her with a warmth that made Maya’s heart do a quiet, sudden flutter.
"Toby called from Johns Hopkins this morning," Rory said.
Maya looked up, her face lighting up. "How is he doing?"
"His physical therapy team says he took ten steps unassisted today," Rory smiled. "The nerve regeneration treatment is working better than expected. He’ll be discharged in time for Thanksgiving."
Maya covered her mouth with her hand, tears of joy welling in her eyes. "Oh, thank God..."
"It wasn't God, Maya," Rory said softly, stepping closer and reaching out to gently take her hand. "It was you. Your courage saved your brother. And it saved my family."
Maya looked down at their joined hands. Rory’s fingers were large, strong, and covered in old scars, but his touch was impossibly tender.
May you like
"Rory," Maya whispered, using his first name for the first time. "Thank you for giving us a second chance."
"No, Maya," Rory murmured, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. "Thank you for bringing light back into this house."
