Clara asked.
“The address for your daughter in Seattle. and two plane tickets. For you and for her.
In case you want to try and rebuild.” Clara’s hands shook. “How did you…”
“I can’t give you back the years you lost. I can’t erase what they did to you.” Victor’s voice was soft.
“But I can give you the chance to start over. With resources. With protection.”
He handed her another folder. “This is the full documentation on that black-market ring you exposed. New evidence, enough to reopen the case, put them away, and clear your name.”
Clara looked at him in wonder. “Why are you doing this?” “Because you saved my son.
Because you’re a good person in a world that punishes good people.” Victor smiled—a genuine, warm smile. “And because Luke needs you. We all do.”
That night, Clara sat in the garden with Luke, reading him a story. The autumn air was crisp, and the smell of dinner was in the air. Security patrolled the perimeter, but for the first time, Clara felt completely safe.
“Clara,” Luke said. “Are you happy here?” She thought about her old life—the cold, the hunger, the loneliness.
Then she looked at this strange, dangerous, but loving new family. At the tough mogul who had trusted her with his most precious treasure. At the boy who looked at her like she was a miracle.
At the second chance she’d never dared to dream of. “Yes, sweetheart,” Clara whispered, pulling him close. “I’m home.”
And for the first time in three years, it was the absolute truth.
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