The syndicate was dismantled in a series of coordinated raids. Michael, who had been hiding in a trailer park, was picked up as a low-level informant. He had tried to use Emma one last time to save his skin, but he had forgotten that a Preston doesn’t negotiate with ghosts.
A month later, Emma stood in front of the Eleanor Center. A new wing was being dedicated—a library named for her daughter.
She took a small box of Michael’s old things—the few items that had been salvaged from the demolition years ago and kept in evidence. A watch, a wedding ring, a set of keys that no longer opened anything.
She walked to the edge of the property, where a small decorative pond now sat. She dropped the box into the deep end.
“The house is gone,” she whispered. “The debts are paid. The story is ours now.”
Epilogue: The Garden of Elara
Emma lived out her days in the cottage Eleanor had given her. She watched Elara grow into a woman who never knew the sound of a door locking from the outside.
