Chapter 12
Arthur ducked, the heavy iron skillet smashing into the tile wall behind him.
One of his thugs raised his gun, but Arthur held up a hand.
“We don't have time for noise,” Arthur snapped. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes. “Nathan is at the bank. He’s looking for the safety deposit box. But the box is empty, Eleanor. The real will has always been in this house.”
My heart pounded. “You came back for the will.”
“If the police find it, I die in prison,” Arthur said, stepping over the shattered door frame. “If I destroy it, I have a fighting chance to retain my board seat while the trial drags on for years. Now. Where is the girl?”
“She’s gone,” I lied, backing toward the hallway. “She ran out the front door when the alarm sounded.”
Arthur smiled cruelly. “You were always a terrible liar.”
He signaled his men. They fanned out into the house.
I bolted down the hallway toward the basement stairs. I needed to make sure the panic room door was sealed.
I threw open the basement door, but Arthur caught my shoulder, yanking me backward. I hit the hardwood floor hard, the breath knocking out of my lungs.
Arthur stood over me, aiming the pistol at my chest.
“You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, seamstress,” Arthur sneered.
He pulled the trigger.
Click.
The gun jammed.
Arthur cursed, racking the slide, but in that split second, a massive figure tackled him from the side.
It was Nathan.
He hadn’t gone to the bank.
Nathan drove his fist into Arthur’s jaw with a sickening crunch. The old man collapsed, dropping the gun.
The two thugs rushed in, but Marco and the real security team were right behind Nathan. The thugs were disarmed and thrown to the ground in seconds.
Nathan hauled Arthur up by his collar, pinning him against the wall.
“Leo warned me you made bail,” Nathan snarled. “He told me the bank was a decoy. He told me you’d come here.”
Arthur spat blood onto the floor, laughing weakly. “You still... don't have the will, Nathan. Without it... it’s your word against mine.”
Nathan let go of Arthur. He reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out the carved wooden jewelry box. The one Sophie had saved from Delaney.
“You tore this house apart looking for the will,” Nathan said softly. “You looked in the safes. You looked in the cedar room. But you forgot one thing, Arthur.”
Nathan turned the wooden box over. He pressed a hidden latch on the bottom.
The false bottom popped open.
Folded neatly inside was a stack of heavy, watermarked legal papers.
The original will.
“Rebecca knew you were looking for it,” Nathan said, his eyes filled with tears of vindication. “So she hid it in the one place Delaney thought was worthless. A box of memories.”
Arthur stared at the papers, his face draining of all color. He finally realized he had lost. Everything.
The police arrived minutes later, dragging Arthur out of the house in handcuffs. This time, there would be no bail.
When the house was finally quiet, Nathan walked down the basement stairs.
The heavy steel door of the panic room slid open.
Sophie ran out, crying, and threw herself into her father’s arms. Nathan held her tight, burying his face in her shoulder.
He reached out his other hand to me.
I walked over and took it, completing the circle.
Months later, on a bright summer morning, the cedar room was finally cleared out. But the items weren't destroyed.
They were carefully packed in beautiful, acid-free archival boxes, labeled in my handwriting, waiting for the day Sophie was ready for them.
The ivory wedding dress hung on a velvet mannequin in the corner of my new sewing room. I had spent weeks carefully repairing the lace Delaney had destroyed, replacing the missing pieces with new silk, stronger than before.
Sophie sat on the floor, wearing the yellow cashmere coat, playing with her dolls.
Nathan walked in, carrying two cups of tea. He handed me one and smiled.
“It looks perfect, Eleanor,” he said, looking at the dress.
I touched the blue stitches along the hem.
May you like
“It’s ready for her,” I said softly.
The storm was over. The billionaire had his daughter, the seamstress had her family, and the ghost of the woman we both loved could finally rest in peace.
