Chapter 5 - The Emerald
Bennett didn’t fight them.
His legs gave out.
He collapsed against the podium as the agents pulled his arms behind his back and locked the handcuffs around his wrists.
The man who cared only about his image was being dragged out of his own gala in front of every donor he had ever lied to.
In the front row, Celeste tried to slip away toward the side exit.
Two agents intercepted her before she made it five steps.
I walked down the steps of the stage and stopped right in front of her.
Celeste was sobbing, her makeup running down her face. She looked at me, terrified.
“Please,” she begged. “He made me do it.”
I didn’t answer her.
I simply reached down, took her right hand, and smoothly slid my grandmother’s emerald ring off her trembling finger.
“You can keep the teacup,” I told her.
Then I turned and walked away.
Six months later.
The rain tapped gently against the windows of Rosehaven.
The house was safe. The forged loan had been voided by the federal court, and the bank had seized the SoHo apartment to recoup their losses.
Bennett was sentenced to fifteen years in federal prison.
Celeste took a plea deal, but she still received five years for her role in the forgery and the charity fraud.
The foundation was fully restored, and I had officially taken over as its director.
I walked into the kitchen.
My mother was sitting at the marble island.
Her hair was beginning to grow back, a soft silver halo, and the color had finally returned to her cheeks. She looked stronger than she had in years.
I poured hot tea into two blue-and-white porcelain cups.
I set one in front of her and sat down.
The emerald ring caught the morning light on my finger.
My mother took a sip of her tea, looked out at the beautiful, quiet gardens of the home we had saved, and smiled.
May you like
“It’s a good day for tea,” she said softly.
“Yes,” I agreed, taking a sip of my own. “It’s a very good day.”
