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And the man who had sat alone in a diner on Route 30 with twenty-four million dollars in an empty chest… had finally found the only treasure on this earth that never fades, never rusts, and never dies.
Arthur picked up his crystal glass of sparkling cider.
He raised it high into the warm, firelit air of Hawthorn Ridge, looking across the feast into the faces of the family he had saved, the family that had saved his soul from the dark.
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“Welcome home, Eleanor,” Arthur smiled, his voice rich, deep, and steady as the mountain timber beneath their feet.
“Welcome home, Chloe.”
Their crystal glasses clicked together in a sweet, clear chime that echoed through the great hall like a silver bell.
