Chapter 16 - The Visitor
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In October, a heavy autumn frost covered the grounds of the estate.
Ethan was in his study, reviewing the quarterly philanthropic reports for the Emma Caldwell Foundation—a new charitable trust he had established to fund child abuse prevention programs across Illinois.
The phone on his desk chimed. It was Eleanor Vance.
"Ethan," Eleanor said, her voice unusually solemn. "I'm calling to give you an update on Claire's trial proceedings."
Ethan rested his elbows on the desk. "Did she accept the plea bargain?"
"No," Eleanor replied. "Her legal team attempted to plead insanity, but the court-appointed psychiatric evaluation deemed her fully competent at the time of the offenses."
Ethan remained silent, listening.
"She was sentenced this morning," Eleanor continued. "Twelve years at the Logan Correctional Center without eligibility for parole for the first eight years."
Ethan closed his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath.
"Is it over?" he asked.
"Legal proceedings regarding the criminal charges are fully concluded," Eleanor confirmed. "She will never come near your family again, Ethan."
"Thank you, Eleanor."
After hanging up the phone, Ethan walked out to the grand foyer.
He looked up at the high mahogany ceiling, remembering the night Claire had screamed as she was dragged away in handcuffs. The house no longer echoed with her voice. The dark energy that had hung over the estate like a heavy fog was entirely gone.
He walked up the stairs to Maddie's room.
She was sitting at her small wooden desk, carefully coloring a picture of a sunlit castle.
"Maddie?" Ethan said softly, leaning against the doorframe.
She turned around, her face lighting up with a radiant smile. "Daddy! Come look at my castle!"
Ethan walked in, pulled up a small child's chair, and sat beside her.
"It's a wonderful castle, Maddie," he said, touching her soft cheek. "Who lives in it?"
"Us," she said simply, pointing her crayon at the drawing. "You, me, Noah, and Sarah. And mommy Emma watches from the sky."
May you like
Ethan felt a lump form in his throat. He wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders and kissed her hair.
"That's right, sweetheart," he whispered. "Us."
