Chapter 16 - The Light Returns
I stood inside a bright, airy new art gallery located in the heart of the city's cultural district.
The space was stunning, with massive skylights that allowed the afternoon sun to pour in, illuminating the pristine white walls. But this wasn't a gallery for elite, wealthy investors.
It was the inaugural exhibition of the Phoenix Trust—the foundation I had established using every single penny recovered from the civil suit against the Cross family. The gallery was dedicated entirely to showcasing art created by survivors of domestic violence and assault, providing them with a platform to rebuild their lives and their confidence.
I stood near the entrance, holding a glass of sparkling water, no longer wearing the dark medical lenses.
The sunlight hit my face directly, warming my skin. For the first time since the attack in the marble foyer, the bright light no longer frightened me. I didn't flinch. I didn't expect pain.
The light felt warm, clean, and entirely mine.
My father walked up beside me, holding two small plates of catered hors d'oeuvres. He handed me one, looking around the bustling gallery with a proud, gentle smile.
"It's a beautiful space, Claire," he said.
"It's exactly what I wanted it to be," I replied, watching a group of people admire a vibrant, chaotic abstract painting.
My father paused for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful.
"Do you ever regret it?" he asked softly. "Hiding who we were from him? Letting him believe you were just a simple archivist?"
May you like
I looked at my father, the memory of Daniel's cruel, dismissive voice echoing briefly in my mind.
"No," I answered, my voice steady and completely free of regret. "I don't regret it at all. Because if he had known about the money, he would have played the perfect, loving husband forever. Hiding the truth showed me exactly who Daniel Cross truly was when he thought no one was watching."
