Chapter 10 - THE FINAL RECIPE
I stood on the beach,
the water lapping at my feet.
The sun was a red orb on the horizon,
bleeding into the sea.
I had my mother’s recipe box in my hand.
I had removed all the deposit slips.
I had removed the cards for the boutique.
I had kept the one for lemon bars.
And the one for my grandmother’s stew.
I looked at the box,
then at the waves.
I threw it into the water.
I watched as it bobbed on the surface,
then was pulled under by the tide.
The recipes of betrayal were gone.
The legacy of lies was finished.
I walked back to my cottage,
the sand soft beneath my feet.
I went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.
It smelled like my father’s.
Strong,
honest,
and warm.
I sat at the table and opened the journal.
I began to write.
The house is sold.
The names are cleared.
The story is mine now.
I looked at the gold cross I had taken from Brooke’s jewelry box before the auction.
I had realized it wasn't gold at all.
It was cheap plated lead.
A fitting metaphor for the life she had tried to lead.
I dropped it into the trash.
I picked up my father’s watch.
It was still ticking,
counting the seconds of my new life.
I was no longer a victim.
I was no longer a ghost.
I was Maren Ellis.
And I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The house on Hawthorne Street had spoken.
The recording had ended.
And the silence that followed,
was finally,
beautifully,
May you like
peace.
The end.
