Page 241 of The Right Wrong Promise

Not just because there’s an angel in my arms, but because I know this is it.

“Can I steal you away from your designs before dinner?”

“This is a working getaway for me,” she says, staring at the tablet I’ve put back on her desk. “But for you, okay.”

Without letting go of her hand, I lead her downstairs and out into the back garden, where the frozen lake glows pink under the winter sunset.

The kids are outside, decked out in all the layers I asked.

I think they’re having a snowman-making competition now, passing the time.

“Wait, where are we going?” Margot asks as I lead her forward.

“You’ll see.”

“You’re not taking me out on that lake?”

“If I was going to murder you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t fall through the ice with you.”

“So romantic.” She laughs. “Seriously, you’re taking me to… the storm shelter?”

“There’s something there I want you to see,” I say, reaching out and opening the huge metal doors.

She hesitates as she looks into the darkness. “I haven’t been down there since Lee…”

“I know.” I touch her face, turning it to face mine. “I promise, there’s nothing there to scare you. Just something you’ll like. We’re replacing the shit memories with better ones today. Trust me.”

After another second, she nods. “Okay.”

First thing I do is bring out the blindfold, slipping it over her eyes.

“Um, how will I get down the stairs like this?” she asks, holding still. “I can’t see anything.”

“That’s the point. I’m going to help you. Are you ready?”

“Nope!” She laughs.

“Perfect.” I take her hand and flick on the new light I had installed.

No more flashlights. I want this place to feel safe, welcoming. The same way it must’ve felt before for her grandparents.

We’ve come full circle, and I want her to appreciate how special that is.

After the showdown, this place was covered in dust and glass shards. The beautiful stained glass window was destroyed.

It took a long damn time to get it cleaned up while she was sleeping during our last trip.

But now the floor is bare. There’s a stained glass panel back where it originally stood, and this time it’s made so it opens easily.

I lead her down and stop in front of it. The backlighting gives off an ethereal glow, like it belongs in an old cathedral.

“Okay,” I whisper, reaching for her blindfold. I slip my fingers into the band and stop.

“You’re really milking this.”

“Only because you’ll freak.”

She leans into me a little. “I’m already happy.”