Chapter 5 - Spring in Westchester
Six months later.
The Westchester estate looked entirely different. The gloomy, oppressive air that had choked the halls for years was gone, replaced by the bright, vibrant sounds of life. French doors stood wide open to let in the crisp spring air, and the scent of blooming lilacs drifted through the marble corridors.
In the east garden, six-year-old Lucas—though still a little thin, with color finally returning to his cheeks—was running across the grass, kicking a red soccer ball toward a small net.
Sitting on a nearby picnic blanket, nine-year-old Emma was busy drawing with a box of colored markers, her yarn-haired doll propped up beside her on the grass.
Lorenzo sat at the patio table nearby, reviewing shipping manifests on his tablet, though his eyes kept drifting toward the garden.
A pair of small footsteps approached behind him.
A hand tapped on his shoulder. Lorenzo turned to find Emma standing there, holding out a piece of construction paper.
“For you,” she said solemnly.
Lorenzo took the paper. It was a crayon drawing of a large house with flowers in the window, a bright yellow sun in the sky, and two stick figures standing side by side—one tall, one small, both with enormous, smiling faces.
In the corner, written in clumsy, practiced capital letters, were the words: NO MORE BAD PILLOWS.
Lorenzo stared at the drawing for a long moment, feeling a deep, abiding warmth spread through his chest that no amount of power or wealth could ever buy.
He looked up at Emma, smiling gently.
“Thank you, Emma,” Lorenzo said, folding the paper carefully and placing it right in the center of his desk planner. “It’s the best drawing I’ve ever seen.”
May you like
Emma beamed, grabbed her doll, and ran back across the lawn to join Lucas, shouting something about a penalty kick.
Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, watching the sunlight dance across the grass. The shadows of his past were buried deep, but for the first time in his life, his home was finally filled with light.
