Chapter Seventy: Ten Years Later
The morning sun over the Hudson River had never seemed brighter. The soft, warm breeze of early June blew through the vast gardens of the estate, carrying the sweet, intoxicating scent of fully bloomed white roses, fresh clover, and the crisp, clean energy of the water. The grand iron gates, which had once felt like the impenetrable walls of a lonely fortress, stood wide open to the world.
Inside the mansion, the air was thick with a joyful, frantic energy. Today was not just another Sunday; it was the day the first fruit of our long journey was returning home for good.
I stood in front of the tall mirrors in the grand foyer, smoothing down the skirts of a long, elegant dress of soft cream silk. At forty-two, the lines on my face were no longer the deep,
