Daniel leaned his head against her shoulder.
The kitchen filled with the smell of bread. Margaret’s old recipe sat open beside the flour, and for once she had followed every instruction instead of changing three steps halfway through.
Thomas reached for a piece while it was still warm.
Margaret slapped his hand lightly.
“Wait until dinner.”
“You always said that.”
“And you never listened.”
“I listened when it mattered.”
She looked at him.
He kissed her forehead.
Outside, the afternoon light moved across the garden. The estate was not grander because it had survived the fraud. It was not more valuable because the money had been recovered. It was simply theirs again, and that was enough.
Daniel carried the bracelet upstairs.
Margaret watched him go, then leaned into Thomas.
“Do you think he will be all right?”
“He will be honest,” Thomas said. “That is a good beginning.”
“And Vanessa?”
Thomas considered.
“I think she has a long way to go.”
Margaret nodded.
“I hope she walks it.”
He wrapped an arm around her.
“You do not have to hope for everyone.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She looked down at the pearl bracelet’s faint impression on her wrist.
“I am learning.”
At sunset, they ate dinner on the terrace.
Daniel brought the letters and read the funny ones aloud. Thomas argued with every detail of the train station story. Margaret corrected them both while cutting the bread.
When the last light faded, Daniel brought out three small candles.
He placed them along the stone railing.
