Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“I haven’t burned anything worth keeping,” I dispute. “And I’d rather be cold than dirty.”
He holds my gaze for several seconds before turning that look on Ariel as if he wishes he could set her on fire. She doesn’t flinch. The door closes behind him and his “escorts,” and silence reigns.
Kara exhales a long, shaky and gives me the barest smile. “So,” she says, “are we done pretending?”
“Yes,” I say. “We’re done. Thank you, Kara.”
She nods. “Thank you for trusting me, Ev.”
I smile. “Always.”
Ariel moves forward to hug Kara. “Thank you,” she breathes. “For everything.”
Kara squeezes her tight. “I’m so glad you came into our lives.”
Tears shine in Ariel’s eyes as she pulls away. “Me too.”
Her hand finds mine, fingers cool and sure. I look at her. She looks at me. The room, the rain, the mess—we stand inside all of it, and somehow, I know it’s made us stronger.
“You okay?” I ask her.
“No,” she says, honest and soft. “But I will be.”
I look at Kara. “This company is yours now.”
Her mouth drops open. “Ev—”
I hold up a hand, stalling her. “You’ve earned it. It’s always been more yours than mine.” I look at Ariel. “Besides, I think I’m gonna be busy keeping my future wife happy for the forseeable future. If she’ll have a disowned son without an inheritance.”
Ariel’s eyes shine with love as she looks at me. “I’ll take you any way I can have you.”
I pull her close and whisper so only she can hear, “Any way? I’ll hold you to that later, my little water nymph.”
Kara makes a sound of disgust. “Okay, get a room, you two. Or better yet, a boat.” She lifts the folder. “I’ll meet the board in thirty. I’ll tell them you’re resigning, Ev, and I’ll accept interim control, make sure you have a generous payout. We’ll put real cleanup first. No more theater.”
“Good,” I say. “I know you’ll do a great job.”
Kara glances at Ariel, then back to me. “Take the day.” She smiles. “Take your life.”
We leave the office together. Outside, the rain has gentled to a steady sheet.
In the car, we sit with our hands laced and the engine off.
“What happens now?” Ariel asks.
“Now,” I say, “we build the world we want.”
“And the lake?”
“We guard it,” I say. “Kara will rewrite contracts and vet partners. We’ll set up a citizen’s watch, fund independent testing, post the data for the public.” I tilt my head, watching her watch me. “And when your father looks up, he’ll see we’re not the enemy.”
She nods. A small smile that’s more relief than joy tucks into her mouth. “There might be a way,” she says. “To bridge the boundary. If the Council believes humans can be trusted to protect rather than destroy.”
“We’ll show them,” I say. “Every day.”
She leans across the console, curls a hand in my shirt, and kisses me, her tongue tangling with mine. When she pulls back, her eyes are as blue and bright as the shallow coves she came from. “I love you,” she murmurs. “I’m choosing you again. I’ll always choose you.”
“I love you. Always,” I say, because I’ll never get tired of telling her.
Outside, the storm breaks apart over Fable Forest, leaving the air washed clean.
Epilogue
Ariel
The boardroom doesn’t applaud when they name Kara CEO—this isn’t that kind of victory—but no one argues either. A few of the men in their heavy suits can’t quite meet her eyes when they murmur, yes, Madam CEO. Kara doesn’t gloat. She just nods once, calm as still water before dawn, and starts naming the things that will make it right: audits, independent monitors, a public dashboard where anyone can see what’s in the water, community liaisons with real voices and real power.
Her first act is simple, but it feels like a tide turning. She renames the company. Tidal Solutions becomes ClearCurrent Environmental. No secrets. No hidden depths. The name itself feels like a promise, that what flows beneath will finally match what shines on the surface.
Articles appear in the newspapers. Not about scandal because Kara’s too clever for that. No, the articles are about change. About new partnerships, new regulations, and new beginnings. The legal wheels grind slowly, but they move: Everett’s father sits through hearings and motions while his empire unravels piece by piece. And outside, the evidence shifts too—new trucks, new crews, no more midnight runs to dump what shouldn’t exist.
By late summer, the reeds stand cleaner, children splash where the water used to smell tired, and teens jump from the dock with the ferocity of creatures who don’t know they’re mortal.
Everett and I sit on the weathered boards in a secluded part of the lake at twilight, bare feet dangling. His hand covers my thigh as my toes skim the surface like they’re greeting an old friend.
“What if they say no?” he asks, meaning the Council I haven’t seen since my exile.