of the search, Claire invited Lydia and Mara to dinner in the new house. They ate at a secondhand oak table beside an open window while rain tapped lightly against the leaves outside.
After they left, Claire carried the glasses to the kitchen and noticed the brass key from June’s envelope resting near the sink.
It opened a document box that now held the original letter, the restored trust papers, and the deed to the house.
Claire hung the key on a small hook beside the front door.
Then she switched off the porch light and turned the lock.
For the first time, a closed door did not feel like exile.
It felt like home.
