Chapter 11 - The Arrival on the Mountain
Two days later, an upscale black livery car, caked in country road dust, rumbled to a stop in front of Daniel’s workshop in Cedar Creek.
Daniel was outside stacking seasoned birch planks when he heard the door shut. He turned, wiping sweat from his forehead, and saw Victoria step onto the gravel.
She looked strikingly out of place. Her designer trench coat and pristine leather ankle boots clashed with the sawdust, rusted iron, and mountain greenery. Her face was thinner, stripped of the smug confidence she wore in the elevator lobby six months ago.
Beside her stood Mason, holding his duffel bag with wide, nervous eyes.
"Daniel," Victoria said, her voice lacking its familiar sharp cadence.
Daniel put down the birch plank, dusting off his hands. He walked toward them slowly, not with anger, but with cautious stillness. "Victoria. Mason."
Mason dropped his bag and ran forward, throwing his arms around Daniel’s waist. Daniel caught the boy, patting his back with warm, steady hands. "Good to see you, buddy. You've grown two inches."
Victoria stood by the car, watching the display of unreserved affection with a painful pang in her chest.
"Why are you here, Victoria?" Daniel asked gently, releasing Mason.
"The firm went into receivership yesterday," Victoria admitted, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the nearby brook. "The Sterling board removed me from executive operations. Everything... everything we fought for is gone."
"I read about it," Daniel replied. "I'm sorry it ended that way."
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"Are you?" Victoria challenged weakly, though there was no venom left in it. "I told you I'd change the locks on your life. It turns out I locked myself out."
"You locked yourself in, Victoria," Daniel said softly. "There’s a difference."
