Chapter 6 - WINGS ACROSS THE SNOW
The private airfield in Waukegan was blanketed in a fresh layer of pure white snow when Vincent’s Gulfstream touched down at midnight.
Dr. Harris had strictly forbidden me from traveling, but nothing on earth could have kept me in that bed. Vincent had personally wrapped me in a thick cashmere blanket, lifted me into the back of his heated Maybach, and brought me to the tarmac.
The jet’s engines wound down into a low, rumbling whine. The air was crisp, freezing, and clean.
The hydraulic stairs lowered slowly.
At the top of the stairs stood Elena Moretti.
She wore an oversized wool coat, her long dark hair whipping in the winter wind. She looked thin, her face etched with the pain of four years of isolation, but her eyes—warm, deep, and brilliant—were alive.
In her arms, bundled in a bright yellow snowsuit, was a four-year-old girl with dark curly hair and sparkling blue eyes.
Vincent stood beside my wheelchair on the tarmac. His entire body was shaking. He looked like a man who was seeing a miracle after walking through hell.
Elena descended the stairs slowly, one step at a time, her eyes locked onto Vincent.
When her boots touched the snowy tarmac, she stopped.
Vincent took three long strides forward. He fell to his knees in the snow before them.
“Elena,” he choked out.
Elena dropped to her knees beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his coat.
“I’m sorry,” she wept, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his hair. “I’m so sorry I ran, Vincent. I was so scared. I didn't know who to trust.”
“You’re home,” Vincent sobbed, his large arms encircling both her and the little girl. “You’re home. Nobody will ever touch you again. I swear it. I swear it on my life.”
Little Grace peered out from her hood, blinking at the big man crying against her mother’s shoulder. She reached out a small, mittened hand and patted Vincent’s wet cheek.
“Are you my daddy?” she asked softly.
Vincent looked up at her, his face radiant through his tears. “Yes, Grace. I’m your daddy. And I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”
Grace smiled, a tiny dimple showing in her left cheek. She held up a small, weathered piece of carved pine. It was a little rabbit, smoothed down by years of being held in small hands.
“Uncle Daniel gave me this,” Grace whispered. “He said my daddy was looking for me. He said my daddy was the strongest man in the world.”
Vincent touched the small wooden carving, kissing the top of Grace’s head. “Daniel was the strongest man in the world, sweetheart. Not me.”
Elena looked past Vincent’s shoulder, her eyes finding mine where I sat in the wheelchair, tears freezing on my cheeks.
Elena gently set Grace down in the snow, walked over to me, and fell to her knees before my chair.
She took my hands in hers, pressing them against her heart.
“Clara,” Elena whispered, her voice overflowing with pure, unfiltered gratitude. “You carried my baby when I couldn't. You kept her safe when the whole world was trying to destroy us. How can I ever repay you?”
I looked down at my swollen stomach, then at Elena’s tear-stained face.
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“You don't have to repay me,” I whispered, smiling through my tears. “Daniel died so we could all be here tonight. That’s all the repayment he would ever want.”
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