A family.
Reunited after twenty-eight years.
David
An hour later, David stood on William’s porch, looking out at the pond.
The party was still going strong, but he’d needed a moment.
A moment to let it all sink in.
He was free.
His name was cleared.
Malcolm Kincaid, now known as Preston Langford, was in federal custody facing charges that would keep him locked up for the rest of his life.
Calvin Strand, his accomplice, had already started cooperating in exchange for a lighter sentence.
The corrupt officials who’d protected Malcolm for decades were being rounded up one by one.
It was over.
Really, truly over.
Footsteps on the porch made him turn.
Mia stood there, holding two glasses of champagne.
She handed him one and stood beside him, looking out at the pond.
“I used to love this view,” she said softly. “When I was little, I’d sit right here and watch the sunset.”
“I remember,” David said. “You’d make up stories about the fish in the pond. Give them all names.”
Mia smiled. “I’d forgotten that.”
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” David said finally. “For everything. For leaving. For missing your entire life. For not being there when you needed me.”
“Dad,” Mia turned to face him, “you saved my life. You saved Mom’s life. You did what you had to do.”
“But I missed so much.” David’s voice was rough. “Your wedding. Lila’s birth. Your mother’s...”
He couldn’t finish.
Mia put her hand on his arm. “You can’t change the past. But you’re here now. And we have time. All the time in the world.”
David pulled her into a hug, holding his daughter close.
His little Morgan.
Who’d grown into this incredible, strong, beautiful woman.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I never stopped loving you. Not for a single day.”
“I know,” Mia said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I love you too, Dad.”
