Chapter 15 - The Unmarked Shore
Two weeks later, the tide at Beachy Head was running out, leaving wide bands of wet shingle and pale chalk sand exposed beneath the white cliffs. The wind off the English Channel was ferocious, carrying the sharp salt spray that Clara had remembered every day of her exile.
They stood at the edge of the precipice, near the spot where Arthur’s hired mechanic had pushed her empty sedan over the edge seven years ago. A low wooden fence had been erected along the footpath, with flowers left by strangers for souls who had walked off the edge into the grey water.
Lily wore her pink backpack, her hair whipping wildly in the sea wind. In her hand she held a small wooden box—the jewelry box that had sat on Clara’s dressing table before the world tore apart.
Clara knelt beside her. “You sure you want to do this?”
Lily nodded without speaking. She opened the box.
Inside lay the diamond engagement ring. It sat on the velvet cushion, perfectly cut, cold, and entirely meaningless. It represented seven years of stolen childhood, an attempted murder, and a father who had valued an insurance policy more than his daughter’s laughter.
Lily picked it up between two fingers. “He bought this with your money, didn't he?”
“He did,” Clara said.
Lily walked to the edge of the safety line, cocked her small arm back, and threw the ring out into the empty air.
The diamond sparkled once as it caught the pale morning sun, an insignificant pinpoint of white light against the sheer drop of the white cliffs. Then it vanished into the churning, foam-streaked surf below, swallowed by the sea that Arthur had claimed as her mother’s grave.
Lily turned back, her face red from the cold wind, but her eyes bright and clear. She reached out, taking Clara’s hand with a firm, unbroken grip.
“Can we get fish and chips now?” Lily asked, the sound of her voice completely normal, innocent, and free.
Clara laughed—a real, ringing laugh that echoed off the chalk face behind them. “Yes, baby. As much as you can eat.”
May you like
They turned their backs on the cliffs and walked toward the small car waiting on the coastal road. As Clara unlocked the door, her reflection caught in the side window. The pale, terrified ghost who had survived a cold river and seven years of hiding was gone. In her place stood a woman who had pulled down an empire to reclaim her daughter.
She put the car in gear and drove away from the edge, never looking back in the rearview mirror."
