Chapter 23
The next morning broke with a brilliant golden sunrise illuminating the quiet Galveston streets in pristine morning light. Clara walked out onto her front porch with a steaming mug of coffee, watching Lily skip down the sidewalk toward school.
Daniel was waiting by the corner with his bicycle, ready to escort his daughter safely to the schoolyard gates. Lily turned back, waving enthusiastically with a bright, radiant smile that captured all the joy in the universe.
Clara waved back, taking a slow, comforting sip of her coffee as a profound sense of closure settled over her heart. She turned to go back inside, but stopped when she noticed a small, unsealed manila envelope tucked behind her porch column.
May you like
There was no return address, no postmark, and no stamps—just her name written in sharp, unfamiliar handwriting. She picked it up with a cautious frown, sliding her finger under the flap to pull out a single sheet of heavy parchment paper.
The paper was entirely blank except for a single line of typed text that made the coffee mug slip from her fingers and shatter on the wooden boards: "The liquidation was an illusion, Clara; we are still watching your every move."
