Chapter 7 - The True North (Happy Ending)
One Year Later.
The sun was setting over the rugged coastline of the Pacific Ocean, casting a brilliant array of orange and purple light across the water. The salty breeze blew gently through the open windows of the large, wooden beach house we had bought in Oregon, hundreds of miles away from the toxic legacy of Seattle.
I stood in the kitchen, pulling a tray of homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.
"They’re ready!" I called out.
The sound of three pairs of feet thundering down the wooden staircase echoed through the house. Regina, Lucy, and Valerie sprinted into the kitchen, their hair wild from spending the entire day building sandcastles on the beach. They were eight years old now, and the shadows of their restrictive, terrifying past had completely vanished. They were loud, messy, joyful, and completely free.
"I get the biggest one!" Valerie declared, reaching for the tray before I gently swatted her hand away.
"Let them cool, monster, unless you want to burn your tongue," I laughed.
Camila walked into the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She was wearing one of my oversized flannel shirts, her hair pulled into a messy bun. The stress lines that used to define her face were gone, replaced by a radiant, deep-seated peace.
She walked up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder.
"You spoil them," Camila smiled, watching the girls eagerly hover over the cookies.
"I have eight years of spoiling to catch up on," I replied, turning around to kiss her forehead. "I plan on spending the rest of my life doing it."
The aftermath of the tarmac showdown had been brutal, but necessary. Arthur Montgomery and Vance Sterling were both denied bail and eventually pleaded guilty to avoid a drawn-out public trial. Arthur was sentenced to twenty years in federal prison; Vance received fifteen. The Montgomery empire was dismantled, the assets seized or liquidated by the government.
Camila had walked away from the fortune without a second thought. We didn't need the billions. We had each other, and that was a wealth Arthur could never comprehend.
After the cookies were distributed and the girls ran out to the back deck to watch the sunset, Camila took my hand. We walked out onto the porch, standing side by side as the ocean waves crashed rhythmically against the shore.
Camila looked down at my arm. She rolled up the sleeve of her flannel, revealing her own forearm.
Side by side, our tattoos lined up perfectly.
The Broken Compass.
For eight years, it had been a symbol of two people wandering through the dark, separated by circumstance and cruelty. But as I looked at Camila, and then out at our three beautiful daughters laughing on the beach, I realized the compass wasn't broken anymore.
May you like
It had done exactly what it was supposed to do. It had guided us through the storm, across the distance, and led us exactly where we were always meant to be.
Home.
