Chapter 8 - THE REWARD
I stared at him, my mouth dry.
“Sir... I mean, Luca, you don't have to do that.”
“You saved my daughter tonight, Claire,” he said gently, uncapping his gold fountain pen. “You threw a heavy pocket watch through a thousand-dollar antique window to protect her. And you stood up to people who terrified you because it was the right thing to do. So, how much?”
I swallowed hard. “Four thousand dollars.”
Luca wrote on the check, tore it out, and handed it to me.
I looked at the number.
It wasn't four thousand.
It was forty thousand.
“Luca, I can't accept this! It’s too much!”
“Pay the taxes,” he smiled gently. “Fix the roof. And take your mother on a vacation. You’re not a maid anymore, Claire.”
Panic flared in my chest. “You’re firing me?”
Caroline laughed, a beautiful, musical sound that filled the dark hallway. She walked over and took my hand.
“He’s promoting you,” she said warmly. “Isabella is going to need a tutor who actually cares about her. If you want the job, it’s yours. Double your current salary. Full benefits.”
I looked at Isabella. She was smiling at me, clutching her father’s hand.
Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. “I would love that.”
The next few hours were a blur of police lights and statements. Richard Vance was arrested for trespassing and assault. Eleanor left in a taxi, screaming threats that nobody cared to listen to.
By the time the sun began to rise over the Chicago skyline, the estate was quiet.
I walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
Hannah, the music teacher, was sitting at the island, looking exhausted but happy.
“It’s a good morning, isn't it?” she smiled.
“The best,” I agreed, taking a sip of water.
“Oh, by the way,” Hannah said, pointing to a long, rectangular wooden case sitting on the kitchen counter. “Luca asked me to leave this here for you.”
I frowned. I walked over and gently unlatched the brass hooks.
I opened the lid.
Inside was Caroline’s violin.
But it wasn't broken anymore. The wood was perfectly sealed, the strings replaced and tightened. A note rested on top of the bow.
“I made a few calls to a restorer tonight. Some things are worth fixing immediately. Thank you, Claire. – L.M.”
I smiled, running my fingers over the smooth wood.
The family had been broken for four years. But tonight, the pieces had finally been put back together.
I closed the case, ready to go home and tell my mother the good news.
But as I walked out the back door of the estate, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was an unknown number.
I answered it.
“Hello?”
A raspy, unfamiliar woman’s voice spoke on the other end.
“Claire Bennett?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
The woman paused.
“I’m the nurse at St. Jude’s Hospice. I’m calling about your father.”
I stopped walking. The cold morning air seemed to freeze in my lungs.
“My father died twenty years ago,” I whispered.
“No, sweetheart,” the woman said softly. “He didn't. And he wants to see you before he passes.”
May you like
I dropped the violin case.
(END OF STORY)
