Chapter 13 - The Coastal Sanctuary
Two months later, early summer had arrived along the rugged coast of Bar Harbor, Maine.
A warm morning breeze blew across the blue waters of the bay, carrying the fresh scent of pine trees, salt mist, and blooming wild roses.
On a grassy bluff overlooking the rocky shore stood a beautiful two-story cedar-shingle home with a wide wooden porch and large glass windows facing the ocean.
Claire sat on a wooden rocking chair on the porch, wearing a comfortable white linen dress, her long chestnut hair tied back in a loose braid. She held a warm mug of coffee in her hands, her hazel eyes watching the sea gulls gliding across the clear blue sky.
Walking up the wooden steps from the gravel driveway was Marcus, carrying two heavy wooden crates filled with fresh pine lumber for the workshop behind the garage. He wore a simple gray t-shirt, dark work pants, and his familiar brown leather boots.
He set the wood crates down near the porch railing, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm.
Marcus: "Morning, Claire. Sleep well?"
Claire set her coffee mug down on a side table, offering him a warm, radiant smile.
Claire: "Best sleep I’ve had in five years, Dad. No red lights, no titanium doors."
Marcus sat down on the porch steps, resting his elbows on his knees, looking out over the quiet ocean horizon.
Marcus: "The federal prosecutor filed the final indictment papers yesterday in New York. Preston accepted a twenty-year plea deal without parole eligibility."
May you like
Claire’s expression remained calm, peaceful, and entirely unburdened.
Claire: "I don't care about his plea deal anymore, Dad. His world isn't my world."
