Chapter 9 - MOON RIVER
"I know," I said quietly, touching the brass corner of the wooden box.
I didn't feel triumph. I didn't feel joy at his downfall. I just felt a profound sense of relief. A twenty-six-year storm had finally broken, and the sun was coming out.
"Are you okay?" David asked, leaning forward. "Really okay?"
I looked at my son. He had stood up to a tyrant to protect me. He was a good man. The exact opposite of what his father had become.
"I am," I said, and for the first time in years, it was completely true.
Lily ran back over, her cheeks flushed with the autumn chill. She pointed at the table. "What's that box, Grandma?"
"This?" I smiled, picking it up. "This is a very old friend."
I opened the lid.
The tiny gears clicked, and the gentle, chiming notes of Moon River drifted into the crisp morning air.
Lily's eyes went wide. She rested her chin on the table, watching the little metal cylinder spin. "It's pretty."
"It is," David agreed softly, watching me.
"Your great-grandfather gave this to me," I told Lily, smoothing her hair. "It reminds me that no matter how much noise there is in the world, the things that truly matter are quiet. And they last."
Lily didn't fully understand, but she smiled, mesmerized by the music. She climbed onto my lap, resting her head against my chest, right over my healing heart.
David reached across the table and took my hand, squeezing it firmly.
May you like
"We're going to build something better, Mom," he promised. "Something real."
"We already have," I replied, holding my family close as the music played on.
