Chapter 7 – THE REWARD

I stared at him, my mouth dry.

“Sir… I mean, Luca, you don’t have to do that.”

“You saved my daughter tonight, Claire,” he said gently, uncapping his gold fountain pen. “You threw a heavy pocket watch through a thousand-dollar antique window to protect her. And you stood up to people who terrified you because it was the right thing to do. So, how much?”

I swallowed hard. “Four thousand dollars.”

Luca wrote on the check, tore it out, and handed it to me.

I looked at the number.

It wasn’t four thousand.

It was forty thousand.

“Luca, I can’t accept this! It’s too much!”

“Pay the taxes,” he smiled gently. “Fix the roof. And take your mother on a vacation. You’re not a maid anymore, Claire.”

Panic flared in my chest. “You’re firing me?”

Caroline laughed, a beautiful, musical sound that filled the dark hallway. She walked over and took my hand.

“He’s promoting you,” she said warmly. “Isabella is going to need a tutor who actually cares about her. If you want the job, it’s yours. Double your current salary. Full benefits.”

I looked at Isabella. She was smiling at me, clutching her father’s hand.

Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. “I would love that.”

The next few hours were a blur of police lights and statements. Richard Vance was arrested for trespassing and assault. Eleanor left in a taxi, screaming threats that nobody cared to listen to.

By the time the sun began to rise over the Chicago skyline, the estate was quiet.

I walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Hannah, the music teacher, was sitting at the island, looking exhausted but happy.

“It’s a good morning, isn’t it?” she smiled.

“The best,” I agreed, taking a sip of water.

“Oh, by the way,” Hannah said, pointing to a long, rectangular wooden case sitting on the kitchen counter. “Luca asked me to leave this here for you.”

I frowned. I walked over and gently unlatched the brass hooks.

I opened the lid.

Inside was Caroline’s violin.

But it wasn’t broken anymore. The wood was perfectly sealed, the strings replaced and tightened. A note rested on top of the bow.

“I made a few calls to a restorer tonight. Some things are worth fixing immediately. Thank you, Claire. – L.M.”

I smiled, running my fingers over the smooth wood.

The family had been broken for four years. But tonight, the pieces had finally been put back together.

I closed the case, ready to go home and tell my mother the good news.

But as I walked out the back door of the estate, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an unknown number.

I answered it.

“Hello?”

A raspy, unfamiliar woman’s voice spoke on the other end.

“Claire Bennett?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

The woman paused.

“I’m the nurse at St. Jude’s Hospice. I’m calling about your father.”

I stopped walking. The cold morning air seemed to freeze in my lungs.

“My father died twenty years ago,” I whispered.

“No, sweetheart,” the woman said softly. “He didn’t. And he wants to see you before he passes.”

I dropped the violin case.

(END OF STORY)

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