Chapter 20 - NIGHT BEACON'S LEGACY
ONE YEAR LATER
The coastal cliffs of Cape Charles were vibrant with wildflowers.
Where Mom's old cottage once stood now rested a state-of-the-art trauma center and sanctuary for military veterans and victims of corporate defense exploitation—funded entirely by the recovered assets of the Bennett estate, directed and managed by Madison Vance.
On the sun-drenched wooden deck overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, eighty guests sat in rows of white chairs.
Senior Chief Matthew Hale stood near the arbor in his full Navy whites, holding a ceremonial saber. Beside him stood Arthur Vance, looking proud and handsome as the father of the bride.
The music swelled—a simple, majestic melody played by a live acoustic ensemble.
Ethan Hale stood at the altar in his Navy dress dress uniform, his eyes fixed on the end of the aisle.
I walked down the aisle on Arthur's arm, wearing an elegant white silk dress. My long sleeves were made of delicate lace, subtly shielding the twin scars on my left forearm—no longer hidden in shame, but displayed as badges of honor.
Madison stood beside me as my maid of honor, weeping tears of pure joy, holding Mom's pearl earrings which now sparkled at my ears.
When Arthur placed my hand into Ethan's, he leaned in and whispered, "He's a good man, Avery. He'll stand beside you through any storm."
"I know, Dad," I smiled.
Ethan looked down at my hand, his thumb gently tracing the lace over my scar. "Ready for our next mission, Major?"
"Always, Commander," I replied.
As we exchanged our vows under the warm golden sun, a formation of four Air Force rescue helicopters roared high overhead in a missing-man flyover formation—saluting the heroic past, and honoring the bright, unbreakable future.
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My name is Major Avery Vance. I am forty years old, a combat rescue officer, a daughter, a sister, and a survivor.
And no matter how deep the ocean or how dark the night... the beacon will always bring us home.
