Chapter 11 - The True Sanctuary
One year later.
I stood on the stone balcony of a private villa overlooking the cliffs of Amalfi, Italy. The Mediterranean sun warmed my face, reflecting off the crystal-clear turquoise waters below.
In my hand, I held a small espresso, enjoying the quiet breeze.
My phone chimed with an email notification from my attorney, Arthur. Attached was a short scanned letter that had been sent to his office, addressed to me from my father.
I opened the file and read the hand-written lines:
Clara,
I won't ask for your money or your forgiveness—I know we don't deserve either. Julian is gone, Serena left him, and your mother and I barely speak anymore. The house is quiet, and the regret is loud. I finally understand that you didn't destroy our family when you sold that house. We destroyed it the day we decided your love was worth less than your bank account.
I hope you are finding the peace we stole from you.
- Dad
I read the letter once, folded my phone shut, and placed it on the small bistro table.
May you like
I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel satisfaction. I felt nothing at all for the past they had built out of greed.
I picked up my espresso, turned toward the stunning ocean view, and took a sip.
