Chapter 9 - The Aftermath
The flashing red and blue lights of a dozen FBI vehicles illuminated the snow outside Vance Manor.
Helicopters beat the air above, their searchlights cutting through the blizzard.
Julian stood on the front steps, wrapped in a heavy winter coat, holding Elise tightly against his side. She was wearing his coat, safe, breathing the crisp, freezing mountain air.
Federal agents were hauling Vivian out in handcuffs. She was sobbing, mascara running down her face, screaming about her trust fund and demanding a lawyer. Nobody was listening.
Paramedics wheeled out two stretchers.
One held Keller, his knee heavily bandaged, his face pale and defeated as federal marshals rode with him in the ambulance.
The other stretcher carried Marcus Thorne. He was unconscious, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. Elise had purged the gas just before it killed him. She wanted him to wake up. She wanted him to face the terror of a concrete cell for the rest of his natural life. Death was too easy.
The lead FBI agent, a tall woman with sharp eyes, walked up the steps to Julian and Elise.
"Mr. Vance. Mrs. Vance," the agent said, nodding respectfully. "The estate is secure. We have all the physical and digital evidence. Thorne's legal team is already trying to resign. It's an open-and-shut case."
"Thank you, Agent," Julian said, his voice exhausted but steady.
The agent looked at Elise. "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am. Your code saved your lives tonight. The bureau would love to consult with you once you're recovered."
Elise offered a small, genuine smile. "Give me a few months, Agent. I have a company to take back first."
The agent nodded and walked back to the command center.
Julian looked down at his wife. The shadows under her eyes were still there. The trauma of the last four years wouldn't vanish in a single night. There would be nightmares. There would be therapy. There would be days when the sound of a dropping bucket might make her flinch.
But as she looked up at the falling snow, her eyes were clear. The invisible chains were gone.
"Are you ready to go inside?" Julian asked softly.
"No," Elise said, leaning her head against his chest. "Not this house. Never this house again."
"Done," Julian said without hesitation. "I'll burn it to the ground tomorrow if you want."
May you like
Elise laughed—a soft, rusty sound that Julian hadn't heard in 1,460 days. It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Don't burn it," Elise said. "Sell it. We have a life to rebuild."
