Chapter 10 - The Music on the Way to the Station
Six months later.
The June morning sun broke across Boston Harbor in brilliant ribbons of rose and liquid gold. The damp, bone-chilling winter winds were gone, replaced by the sweet, salty breeze of early summer and the scent of blooming lilacs from the common gardens.
On the corner of Dorchester Street, a sleek black SUV was parked quietly near the curb. Leo Vance was leaning against the rear fender, wearing sunglasses and holding a cardboard cup of black coffee, watching the neighborhood wake up.
Up on the second floor, Karen Marsh finished buttoning the collar of her pale blue silk blouse.
Her small apartment was filled with cardboard boxes—not because of an eviction notice, but because they were moving that afternoon into a sunlit Victorian townhouse in Beacon Hill, three blocks from Boston Public Garden.
Toby came bursting out of the bathroom, his sneakers squeaking against the newly cleaned linoleum.
He wasn't pale. His lips weren't blue. His cheeks were round, flushed with healthy pink blood, and he was practically vibrating with boundless, nine-year-old energy. Across his chest, hidden beneath his clean cotton t-shirt, was a neat, surgical scar—a thin silver line that Dr. Harrison had declared a complete, miraculous success three weeks ago.
“Karen! Time to guess!” Toby shouted, grabbing his lightweight backpack.
Karen laughed, turning around with her leather briefcase in hand. “Toby, you don't even have to walk to the station today. Leo is waiting downstairs to drive us to the academy.”
“The rule is the rule!” Toby insisted, crossing his arms with stubborn nine-year-old authority. “If I guess right, I pick the music for the whole ride. If you guess right, you pick.”
Karen smiled, walking over and kneeling down in front of him. She gently adjusted his collar, remembering the freezing December mornings when his hands had been too cold to hold an earbud.
“All right, buddy,” she said softly. “What am I teaching today?”
“Nothing!” Toby grinned triumphantly. “Because today is graduation day! You’re not teaching a lesson; you’re giving Micah Trent his gold medal and handing out the diplomas!”
Karen stopped. A warm, radiant smile spread across her face.
“You win, buddy. What's the song?”
“The purple fire engine song!” Toby cheered, running for the front door.
Karen grabbed her coat, but before she stepped into the hallway, she paused beside the wall near the door.
The old photograph of her mother was gone from the dark corner. It was now resting inside an exquisite, custom-made silver frame that Teresa Baron had brought back from Florence last month.
Beside it hung a new photograph.
It showed the steps behind the Ridgemont kitchen. Sitting side by side on the concrete were Karen and Teresa, both smiling broadly into the camera, holding two halves of a roast beef sandwich wrapped in wax paper.
Karen touched the silver frame with the tip of her finger.
“We made it, Mom,” she whispered into the quiet room.
When Karen and Toby walked out the front door into the bright June sunshine, Elias Baron was standing on the sidewalk beside the SUV.
He wasn't wearing a three-piece corporate suit or an evening tuxedo. He wore a crisp white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and dark trousers. When he saw Karen, his eyes softened with that same deep, unshakable devotion that had guarded her life for the past six months.
“Morning, Headmistress,” Elias smiled, extending a hand to take her heavy briefcase.
“Morning, Mr. Baron,” Karen replied, her eyes dancing with quiet affection as their fingers brushed against each other.
“Teresa is already at the academy,” Elias said, opening the rear door for Toby. “She refused to let the catering staff arrange the stage flowers. She said if the hydrangeas aren't trimmed at a forty-five-degree angle, the whole auditorium looks like a train station.”
Karen laughed—a bright, joyous sound that carried effortlessly into the summer morning air.
“Some things never change, Elias.”
“No,” Elias said, closing the door and looking down at Karen, his gaze steady, protective, and full of unspoken promises for the future. “Some things get exactly what they deserve.”
As the black SUV pulled away from the curb and turned toward the glistening towers of downtown Boston, Toby plugged his phone into the car's sound system. The energetic, ridiculous beat of his favorite song filled the vehicle, bouncing against the windows.
Karen looked out through the glass at the harbor.
May you like
The water was no longer gray, freezing, or flooded with broken pipes.
It was wide open, deep, and shining under the endless summer sun.
