Chapter 7 - The Light in the Mansion
One year later, the Mercer estate looked entirely unrecognizable.
The high stone walls remained, but the black SUVs were parked far away from the main lawn. The heavy black velvet curtains had been permanently removed from every single window, replaced by sheer white linen that allowed the summer sun to flood every corner of the grand house.
Out on the flawless green lawn, the sound of pure, unbridled laughter cut through the warm afternoon air.
Jonah and Blythe—now six years old—were running through the garden sprinklers, their cheeks flushed with healthy color, their dark curls fully grown back, shining in the sunlight. They were vibrant, strong, and entirely free of the disease that had almost stolen their futures.
On the veranda, Lawson Mercer sat at a wooden table, wearing a casual linen shirt, completely relaxed. He was no longer looking at financial ledgers or shipping manifests. He was watching his children play.
Waverly walked out of the house, carrying a tray of fresh lemonade. She had gone back to school, fully funded by a private foundation Lawson had established in her son's memory, and was only months away from completing her degree in pediatric care. Her cheap gray coat was gone, replaced by a beautiful sundress, her eyes no longer reflecting a broken woman, but a woman who had found a purpose, a home, and a family.
"They're getting faster," Lawson smiled, reaching up to catch Waverly's hand as she stood beside his chair.
"That's because they have something to run toward now, Lawson," Waverly replied softly, squeezing his hand back.
Jonah suddenly stopped running, grabbing his sister's hand and pointing toward the veranda. "Daddy! Waverly! Come play with us!"
Lawson looked up at Waverly, a beautiful, genuine smile breaking across his handsome face—a smile the city of Chicago had never seen, reserved only for this sanctuary they had built together from the ashes of their mutual grief.
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"Duty calls," Lawson said, standing up and pulling Waverly gently with him down the steps into the sunlit grass.
The house was no longer waiting to die. The darkness had lost its grip, and inside the Mercer mansion, the light was finally here to stay.
