Chapter 10 - The Farmer’s Final Harvest
We left the farmhouse as the first fingers of dawn began to touch the horizon.
The Architect guided us through a series of backroads,
ensuring that we weren't followed.
By the time the sun was fully up,
the farmhouse was a speck in the rearview mirror.
I didn't look back after that.
I held the letter in my lap,
a compass for the new life I was about to begin.
The transition was swifter than I expected,
facilitated by the invisible hands Richard had put in place decades ago.
Within a week,
we were on a plane,
leaving the cornfields of Iowa for the coast of Italy.
The villa was exactly as he had described—a beautiful,
sun-drenched home overlooking the Mediterranean.
The lemon trees were in bloom,
and the air smelled of salt and citrus.
Daniel and Emily stayed with me for a while,
helping me settle into a life of luxury I had never asked for.
But even here,
in this paradise,
certain habits remained.
On Sunday evenings,
I still roast potatoes.
I still grill chicken.
And I always,
always use fresh rosemary.
I still set a fourth plate at the table,
facing the sea instead of the fields.
It’s not because I’m waiting for a ghost,
or because I’m living in a lie.
It’s because I’ve finally come to terms with the man I married.
He was a farmer.
He was a spy.
He was a protector.
But to me,
he was simply Richard.
The Eagle has finally landed,
and the work is truly done.
I sit on the terrace,
watching the sun dip below the waves,
the gold coin in my pocket a reminder of the weight he carried.
I am Sarah Vance now,
a woman with a secret and a fortune.
But in my heart,
I am still the farmer’s wife,
waiting for the sun to go down so the stars can come out.
The rosemary continues to grow,
strong and fragrant in the Italian sun.
And every time I smell it,
I hear his voice in the wind.
"I love you,
Sarah."
"Everything is secure."
The harvest is over,
and the barn is full.
I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of the sea.
The fourth plate is clean,
and the cider is cold.
May you like
And for the first time in forty-three years,
I am at peace.
