Chapter 10 - The Restoration
I walked into the warm, sunlit hallway of my home and closed the heavy front door firmly behind me.
The house smelled faintly of lemon polish and old books, exactly the way Richard and I had always kept it.
I spent the afternoon unpacking my suitcase, finally putting away the clothes that had traveled to London and back.
I heard through Marcus that Daniela had recently found a minimum-wage job working as a waitress in a diner across town.
She was currently living in a tiny, run-down studio apartment, learning the incredibly hard lessons about money and survival that she had actively avoided her entire life.
She had tried to call me once, but her number was permanently blocked from my phone.
I felt absolutely no guilt, only the quiet, steady satisfaction of a woman who had successfully refused to be buried alive.
I brewed a cup of hot Earl Grey tea and walked out onto the front porch to enjoy the crisp evening air.
I sat in my favorite rocking chair, watching the neighborhood children ride their bicycles down the quiet suburban street.
Mrs. Nolan waved politely from across the street, completely unaware of the dramatic war that had been fought and won over this very property.
My home was safe, my finances were secure, and the toxic parasites had been permanently removed from my peaceful life.
I took a slow, comforting sip of my tea, savoring the absolute perfection of my hard-fought independence.
Suddenly, a sleek, entirely black town car pulled smoothly up to the curb directly in front of my house.
A tall man in a tailored charcoal suit stepped out of the back seat, adjusting his cuffs with a familiar, terrifying precision.
As he walked slowly up my driveway, the evening light caught the distinct, vintage silver watch glittering on his left wrist.
It was Richard's watch, the exact same one I had personally buried him in five years ago.
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The man stopped at the bottom of my porch steps and smiled warmly.
"Hello, Eleanor," he said softly, "your husband sends his deepest regards."
