Chapter 5 - The Horizon
Two months later, the first heavy snow of a Connecticut winter began to dust the sprawling lawns of the Duca estate.
Inside the grand kitchen, the air smelled of roasted cinnamon, vanilla, and warm bread. Emma sat at the center island with a box of colored pencils, sketching a wildly inaccurate picture of a large black dog that looked suspiciously like Lorenzo’s German shepherd, Bruno.
I stood at the counter, tying a small blue ribbon around a box of holiday pastries.
The heavy kitchen door opened, and Lorenzo walked in, shaking the light snow off the shoulders of his dark wool coat. He looked tired, but as his eyes swept across the kitchen and landed on Emma chattering away about her drawing, the severe edge of his expression melted into a quiet, genuine smile.
“Uncle Lorenzo!” Emma chirped, sliding off her stool and running over to him, grabbing the cuff of his coat exactly as she had months ago.
Lorenzo crouched down immediately, bringing himself level with her, just as he had done on the antique runner.
“Did you finish your dog?” he asked, inspecting her drawing with exaggerated architectural seriousness.
“He has five legs because he runs super fast,” Emma explained proudly.
Lorenzo chuckled—a rich, warm sound that filled the high ceilings of the kitchen. He looked up, his gaze meeting mine across the island.
May you like
There were no more missing minutes on the security cameras. There were no locked doors or hidden tears in the laundry room. There was only the steady, unyielding warmth of a home that had finally stopped pretending.
“Come,” Lorenzo said, standing up and holding one hand out to Emma and the other across the counter toward me. “Dinner is waiting. And this time, nobody is hiding.”
