Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
After the burial, people lingered. Some approached Vivienne to thank her—families of the victims found in the quarry, in the harbor, in shallow graves across Aldrich properties. Others kept their distance, uncomfortable with her abilities or resentful of what her investigation had revealed about their beloved town.
Chief Sullivan appeared, looking older than he had a week ago. “The town council asked me to thank you officially. You did what I should have done twenty-five years ago.”
“You were one person against a system built to protect the Aldriches.”
“That’s what I tell myself at night.” Sullivan’s weathered face showed regret. “Doesn’t make it true. I knew things weren’t right. I just didn’t want to see how wrong they were.”
Martha Morgan approached, leaning heavily on a cane. “Ms. Hawthorne. Walk with me?”
Vivienne excused herself and fell into step beside Lily’s mother. They moved slowly along the cemetery path, away from the crowd.
“Lily spoke to you,” Martha said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Just now, at the burial. She wanted you to know she’s at peace. That she’s with your husband.”
Martha stopped, one hand pressed to her mouth. Tears streamed down her face. “All these years, I’ve been so afraid she was suffering. That her spirit was trapped, crying out for help that never came.”
“She was calling out. But not because she was suffering—because she wanted justice. She wanted her story told.” Vivienne touched Martha’s arm. “Now it has been. She can rest.”
“Thank you.” Martha’s voice broke. “For everything. For finding her, for speaking about her courage, for giving me my daughter back even though she’s gone.”
They stood together in silence, two women bound by loss and the strange comfort of knowing the dead could still communicate love.
When Martha returned to her friends, Vivienne found Brooks waiting by his car.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“Tired. Sad. But okay.” She leaned against the car door. “It’s good that the town came together for this. Even the people who hate me for exposing the Aldriches showed up to honor Lily.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“Mrs. Pennington glared at me the entire service.”
“Mrs. Pennington glares at everyone.” Brooks opened the passenger door. “Come on. Let me drive you home. You need rest.”
Home meant the apartment above The Mystic Cup. Dawn had cleaned while Vivienne was in the hospital, restocked the herbal blends, arranged fresh flowers in every room. The space felt peaceful in a way it hadn’t before—as if the resolution of Lily’s case had lifted weight from the building itself.
Brooks helped her up the narrow stairs despite her protests. At the door, he paused.
“Do you want company, or would you rather be alone?”
“Company. Please.” Vivienne unlocked the door. “But fair warning—I’m probably going to fall asleep on the couch within an hour.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Inside, she made tea while Brooks examined her bookshelves. The grimoire sat on a high shelf, its cover gleaming in the afternoon light. Beside it, her mother’s journals. Her grandmother’s customer records. Generations of Hawthorne women documenting their gifts.
“This one’s different,” Brooks said, pulling down a slim volume. “It’s not handwritten.”
“That’s the published history of Westerly Cove. Has a whole chapter on the lighthouse.” Vivienne brought two mugs of chamomile to the sitting area. “Completely glosses over the Aldrich smuggling, of course. The author was Gerald’s cousin.”
“Of course.” Brooks set the book aside and accepted his tea. “Agent Porter called me this morning. The FBI is officially closing the case. All the Aldriches are facing federal charges. Winston’s looking at life without parole for multiple murders.”
“What about Gerald?”
“His attorney is negotiating. He’s cooperating fully, giving testimony about the operation going back forty years. Given his age and health issues, they might allow him to serve his sentence in a medical facility.”
“And the others? Jeremy and Tyler?”
“Both accepted plea deals. Twenty-five to thirty years.” Brooks sipped his tea. “It’s over, Vivienne. The empire your family has been fighting for generations—it’s finally done.”
She should feel triumph. Instead she just felt tired. “The town won’t forgive me easily for this. The Aldriches employed half of Westerly Cove through their various businesses.”
“The town will adjust. Some people are already calling you a hero.”
“And others are calling me a witch who destroyed a founding family out of spite.” Vivienne set down her mug. “I heard a customer say to Mrs. Mayer yesterday that I should have minded my own business. Mrs. Mayer told them to leave if they couldn’t be civil.”
“Good for her.” Brooks moved closer on the couch. “What matters is that you did the right thing. That Lily’s family has closure. That other victims were found and identified. That Winston can’t hurt anyone else.”
“I know. I just wish it didn’t come with so much anger directed at me.”
“Give it time. The truth has a way of settling in once the initial shock wears off.” His hand found hers. “You’re not alone in this. Sullivan has your back. Dawn does. And I do.”