Chapter 19 - The Newport Reckoning
Two weeks later. Newport, Rhode Island.
The morning sun broke through crisp autumn clouds, painting the Atlantic ocean in brilliant shades of gold and blue. The ocean breeze carried the clean smell of salt and cedar.
On the porch of a modest, weathered beachfront cottage, Marcus Vance sat in a rocking chair, drinking coffee from a heavy ceramic mug. His arm was out of the sling, though he still moved with a slight stiff caution.
On the lawn below, David was throwing a tennis ball for a stray dog they had adopted, his laughter ringing loud and clear over the sound of crashing waves.
Sarah emerged from the house carrying Leo, who was giggled softly as the wind played with his wispy hair. She sat down on the wooden steps, resting her head against David’s shoulder as he walked up to join her.
On the small television inside the cottage, a news anchor was reading the morning headlines: Eleanor Sterling sentenced to life without parole in federal maximum-security facility. Former FBI Agent Miller facing thirty years for treason and conspiracy.
David looked at the screen for a moment, then reached out and pressed the power button on the remote, turning the display to black.
"Is it really over?" David asked softly, holding Sarah's hand.
May you like
Sarah looked down at her son, then up at the vast, open horizon of the Atlantic. The bruises were gone. The fear was gone.
"It's over," Sarah said. "Now, we live."
