Chapter 9
Two years to the day after I’d found the hidden safe in dad’s study, we held the first annual Daniel Carter Foundation Gala.
We hosted it at the mansion.
We set up tents in the backyard, strung fairy lights in all the trees, hired a band, invited all the donors, all the families we’d helped, all the people who’d stood by me over the last two years.
Lila was there, with her fiancé. She was getting married next spring, and she’d asked me to be her maid of honor.
Arthur was there, with his wife, dancing like a dork to the band, making everyone laugh.
Maria was there, wearing a new dress I’d bought her, beaming as everyone told her how wonderful the food was (she’d cooked all of it, of course, refused to let me hire a caterer).
Mia was there, looking beautiful in a blue dress, running around making sure everything was perfect, giving speeches, making everyone feel welcome.
I stood at the edge of the tent, watching everyone, my heart so full it felt like it might burst.
Mia came over, handed me a glass of champagne.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she said, smiling.
I looked out at the crowd. At all the people laughing, talking, celebrating.
“I was just thinking,” I said. “Two years ago today, I was standing right here, in this exact spot, with $127 in my bank account, a slap on my face, thinking I was going to be homeless and alone for the rest of my life. And now… this.”
I waved my hand at the crowd, at the lights, at the roses.
Mia squeezed my arm.
“You did this, Liv,” she said. “All of it. You took all the bad things that happened to you, and you turned them into something good. Something amazing. Dad would be so proud.”
I took a sip of champagne, my eyes wet.
“We did this,” I said. “All of us. Together.”
Later that night, after all the guests had left, after the band had packed up, after the last of the dishes were done, Mia and I walked through the garden, our shoes in our hands, the grass cool under our feet.
We stopped in front of the yellow rose bushes.
They were in full bloom now, bright and beautiful, glowing in the moonlight.
I thought of the day of the funeral.
The slap. The fear. The lawyer at the door.
The letter. The safe. The trials.
The foundation. Lila. Mia.
All of it.
I’d come so far.
I wasn’t that scared little girl anymore.
I was strong. Confident. Loved. Safe.
I had everything I’d ever wanted.
Everything I’d ever needed.
Mia leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Ready to go in?” she said. “I’m exhausted.”
I smiled, wrapping my arm around her.
“Ready,” I said.
We walked back to the house, slow and easy, our bare feet on the grass.
I looked up at the sky, at the stars twinkling bright above the trees.
“Goodnight, dad,” I whispered. “I love you.”
The wind blew soft through the rose bushes, carrying the sweet scent of the flowers to me.
Like an answer.
Like a kiss.
Like I love you too, baby girl.
I smiled, and walked into the house, the light spilling out the open door, warm and bright and welcoming.
May you like
I was home.
Finally, truly home.
