Chapter 9 - THE HOMEWEAVER
Spring came early to the estate.
By April, the cold winter snow had melted into green lawns, blooming cherry blossoms, and sunlit mornings filled with the sound of songbirds.
The estate had changed completely.
The sealed master suite on the top floor had been renovated into a bright, airy master bedroom with high windows that let in the morning light. Eleanor’s memory was honored—a quiet, elegant portrait hung in the library alongside a foundation set up in her name that funded regional art restoration—but the dark ghost of grief had left the halls.
On a warm Saturday afternoon, the estate hosted its first large event in five years.
It wasn't a corporate dinner or a high-society fundraiser.
It was a spring garden party for the families of Harrington Tech's administrative and estate staff.
Children were running across the manicured lawns, playing tag near the flowerbeds. A large marquee tent sat on the grass, filled with catering tables offering fresh fruit, sandwiches, and ice cream. Mrs. Delgado sat under a shaded umbrella, surrounded by three junior housekeepers, laughing as she watched her grandchildren play near the fountain.
I stood on the stone terrace overlooking the lawn, wearing a simple white lace dress, a thin gold band sparkling alongside my sapphire ring on my left hand.
Sarah Lin stepped up beside me, holding a clipboard and a glass of lemonade.
"The catering team is running twenty minutes ahead of schedule, Mrs. Harrington," Sarah said with a dry, professional wink.
I laughed, shaking my head. "Please, Sarah. Don't start that."
Sarah smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached her eyes. "It suits you, Clara. The whole house feels... alive."
She pointed her pencil toward the far end of the lawn.
"And I think your husband has lost control of the security detail."
I looked out across the grass.
Kai was standing near a low badminton net set up near the hedge line. He was wearing a casual white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark trousers, and white sneakers.
Opposite him, holding a bright pink plastic racquet that was almost as long as her legs, was Lily.
She was nine years old now in her mind, though she was still four in reality, her dark curls bouncing under a yellow hair ribbon as she jumped up and down on the grass.
"Hit it higher, Daddy!" Lily shouted across the net.
Kai raised his racquet, tapped a white shuttlecock lightly over the net, and watched with absolute concentration as Lily swung wildly, missed by two feet, and sent the shuttlecock spiraling into a nearby rosebush.
"Fault!" Lily announced loudly. "You served it too fast!"
"It was moving at two miles an hour, Lily," Kai called back, his face bright with laughter.
"It was a cannonball!" she insisted, running into the bushes to fetch the shuttlecock.
May you like
Kai turned toward the terrace.
When his eyes met mine, he stopped. He handed his racquet to Marco Bell—his head of estate security, who was currently hiding a huge grin behind his sunglasses—and walked slowly across the green grass toward the terrace.
