Chapter 9 - The Garden of Healing
Six months later.
The quiet house on the edge of town still smelled of lemon cleaner, but the heavy, suffocating loneliness was gone.
The kitchen windows were open, letting in the cool autumn breeze. In the backyard, Lily was standing near a small wooden table she had built herself, painting a birdhouse a bright, cheerful blue. Her face was completely healed, her eyes clear and sparkling with the creative energy she had lost during her years with Richard.
Arthur walked out onto the porch, holding two cups of fresh, hot coffee. He didn't drink alone anymore.
"Here you go, Lilybug," he said, handing her a mug.
"Thanks, Dad," she smiled, setting her paintbrush down and taking a slow sip. She looked out over the small yard, where a couple of blue jays were nesting in the oak trees. "It's so quiet here. I forgot how nice the quiet could be."
"It's the best kind of quiet," Arthur agreed, sitting down on the wooden bench beside her. "The kind you earn."
"Do you ever miss it?" Lily asked, looking at him with a sudden, mature curiosity. "Your old life? The one with the satellite phones and the people who call you Colonel?"
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Arthur looked at his daughter, his beautiful, strong, resilient girl who had survived the worst the world could throw at her and come out stronger on the other side.
"No," Arthur said, shaking his head with absolute certainty. "That life was just a job. This is my life. Being your father is the only rank I ever wanted to keep."
