“The check was paid.”
“Daniel is home.”
“The uniform held true.”
“The ledger is closed.”
“And around here…”
I stood up from the chair, holding Daniel, Thomas, and Uncle David’s hands toward the limitless blue sky as the distant chimes of the valley chapel began to strike twelve times across the peaceful water:
“…nobody ever, ever… audits an auditor again.”
Barnaby let out a soft, contented sigh on the porch rug, his tail thumping once against the cedar boards: *thump.*
Daniel laughed into the warm sunlight.
The river ran deep and clear.
The eagles climbed into the limitless blue sky.
The ledger was closed forever.
And the wife whose husband’s family had mocked her as a walking credit card, only to discover she held the sovereign title to their lives… was finally, beautifully, eternally free.
