Chapter 9 - The Reunion
Half an hour later, the locked doors of Graves Tower were thrown open to the afternoon sun.
Dozens of news vans, reporters with flashing cameras, and curious crowds packed the plaza outside the building. Paramedics were treating building staff in the lobby, while federal agents led a handcuffed, disgraced Julian Graves out the front doors into the back of a black armored FBI van, to the loud boos and jeers of the crowd.
I was sitting on the back bumper of a shiny white ambulance parked in the plaza, wrapped in a warm yellow blanket, holding a warm cup of hot chocolate that a nice paramedic had given me.
Nathaniel was standing beside me, a white bandage wrapped neatly around his forehead, refusing to go to the hospital until one specific car arrived.
A sleek black sedan with tinted windows pulled through the police barricades, coming to a sudden stop right in front of the ambulance.
The rear door flew open.
A woman stepped out into the sunlight. She was wearing a faded denim jacket, dark circles under her tired eyes, and her hair tied up in a messy bun—my mother, Clara.
She stopped dead in her tracks, looking at the grand marble entrance of Graves Tower, then at the silver-haired man standing beside the ambulance.
Nathaniel took three slow, hesitation-filled steps forward, his hands trembling at his sides.
"Clara..." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the flashing cameras.
My mother covered her mouth with both hands, tears spilling over her cheeks in giant, unstoppable waves. The twelve years of pain, of surviving on the margins, of believing she was abandoned and hated by her own father, melted away in a single second as she looked into his eyes and saw the unconditional love she had missed for over a decade.
"Dad!" she cried out.
She ran across the concrete plaza, throwing her arms around Nathaniel's neck.
Nathaniel wrapped his arms around her, lifting her slightly off her feet, pulling his long-lost daughter into an embrace twelve years in the making. They sobbed together, held each other so tight it seemed like nothing in the world could ever separate them again.
Reporters snapped hundreds of photos, capturing the emotional reunion of the billionaire and his long-lost heiress on the front pages of every newspaper in the country.
After a long time, my mother pulled back, wiping her wet face, and looked down at me sitting on the back of the ambulance.
"Ruby..." she sobbed, rushing over to kneel in front of me, taking my face in her soft, warm hands. "Oh, my sweet, brave girl... are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
"I'm okay, Mom," I smiled brightly, hugging her tightly around her neck. "Look! I still have my backpack! And I met Grandpa!"
My mother looked up at Nathaniel, who stepped over to stand beside us, his hand resting gently on my mother's shoulder.
"You raised an incredible daughter, Clara," Nathaniel said, his eyes shining with pride. "She came to my building with hungry eyes, wearing a patched dress, holding nine hundred dollars in cash... and she didn't keep a single penny. She returned it just to do the right thing."
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My mother smiled tearfully, squeezing my hands. "We don't have much, Ruby... but we have our word."
"You have everything now, Clara," Nathaniel said firmly, looking at both of us. "You are coming home. To a house where you will never have to worry about rent, or food, or crying behind closed doors ever again."
