Chapter 27
I looked at my daughter, surrounded by the roses her grandfather had planted.
Someday, she would ask me about him.
Someday, I would tell her that he had built an extraordinary company.
That he had made mistakes.
That he had worked too hard and sometimes worried too much.
And that when he realized his daughter might be in danger, he had tried to leave her the means to protect herself.
But I would also tell her something else.
I would tell her that the most important inheritance he left me wasn’t his money.
It wasn’t the company.
It wasn’t even the little brass key I still kept tied to its faded blue ribbon.
It was the courage to believe that my life belonged to me.
Rose rested her head against my shoulder.
The afternoon sun warmed her hair.
And for the first time since the morning of my father’s funeral, I felt completely at peace.
Caleb had walked into that chapel believing the man who could stop him was dead.
He had never imagined that the woman standing beside the coffin would learn to stop him herself.
He had been wrong about my father.
Wrong about the inheritance.
Wrong about our marriage.
But his greatest mistake was believing that when my father died, there was no one left who could stand against him.
Because I was still there.
And I was no longer afraid to stand.