Chapter 8 - When the Danger Was Gone
Three weeks later, Joan returned to her apartment.
The broken lock had been replaced.
The landlord had also left another envelope.
This one contained a notice saying her balance was zero.
Joan immediately called Roman.
“You paid my rent.”
“No.”
“Roman.”
“I purchased the building.”
Joan closed her eyes.
“You what?”
“The landlord was attempting an illegal eviction.”
“So you bought an entire apartment building?”
“There were several maintenance violations.”
“That is not a normal response.”
“I never claimed to be normal.”
She tried to stay angry.
It was difficult.
Especially when she discovered he had not changed her lease or raised anyone’s rent.
Instead, repairs had begun throughout the building.
“You can’t solve everyone’s problems with money.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
His voice softened.
“Caroline tried to teach me.”
That ended the argument.
Joan returned to the Silver Oak a month after the attack.
The front doors had been replaced.
The marble bar still had a small bullet scar near the base.
She touched it.
Marcus approached.
“Ready?”
Joan looked around.
“No.”
He smiled.
“Good answer.”
She worked 4 hours.
At 2:15, the restaurant doors opened.
Betty walked inside carrying flowers.
Roman followed.
Joan groaned.
“You’re stalking me.”
Betty ran into her arms.
Roman said, “She insisted.”
“Liar,” Betty announced. “Daddy changed shirts 3 times.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Joan laughed.
Something had shifted between them since the greenhouse.
Neither had named it.
Roman had lost his wife violently.
Joan had discovered a sister only after losing her.
Neither wanted to confuse grief with love.
So they moved carefully.
Coffee.
Walks through Caroline’s garden.
Dinner with Betty.
Conversations after the child went to sleep.
Joan discovered Roman hated olives, secretly watched terrible cooking shows, and could not make pancakes without destroying the kitchen.
Roman learned Joan sang while cleaning, kept emergency chocolate in every handbag, and cried at dog adoption commercials.
The terrifying man from the hospital slowly became simply Roman.
One evening, sitting beneath the garden lights, he finally said what both had avoided.
“I feel guilty.”
Joan understood without asking.
“Because of Caroline?”
“Yes.”
“Would she want you alone forever?”
“No.”
“Would she want Betty alone?”
His eyes shifted toward the mansion.
“No.”
Joan took his hand.
“Then maybe loving someone after losing her isn’t replacing her.”
Roman looked at their hands.
“I’m not afraid of replacing Caroline.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Losing you too.”
Joan’s breath caught.
There it was.
Not a confession exactly.
Something more vulnerable.
She moved closer.
Roman touched her cheek.
Slowly enough to let her stop him.
She didn’t.
Their first kiss was quiet.
No fireworks.
No dramatic music.
Just warmth, hesitation, and the strange sensation of two people remembering that life could offer something besides survival.
Then a window opened above them.
“FINALLY!”
They jumped apart.
Betty leaned halfway out her bedroom window.
Joan burst out laughing.
Roman pointed upward.
“Bed. Now.”
“I’m already in my bedroom!”
“Inside the bedroom!”
Betty disappeared.
Roman rubbed his forehead.
Joan laughed harder.
Then Roman kissed her again.
Upstairs, Betty cheered.
For the first time in years, Roman’s house sounded alive.
But the following morning brought a letter.
Not threatening.
Not dangerous.
It came from the district attorney.
Michael’s attorneys intended to challenge Caroline’s notebook as evidence and claim Victor had fabricated records to save himself.
Roman read the letter twice.
“So he might walk?”
“Not necessarily.”
But Joan knew what frightened him.
Michael had money.
Lawyers.
Influence.
And Caroline was not alive to testify.
Then Marianne remembered something.
“A voicemail.”
Everyone turned.
“Caroline called me the night she died.”
Marianne had kept the old phone in a storage box because she could never bring herself to erase the recording.
Roman’s face changed.
“Do you still have it?”
Marianne nodded.
The recording was damaged.
But one sentence remained perfectly clear.
Michael knows I found the accounts. If anything happens to me, it wasn’t an accident.
Roman closed his eyes.
May you like
Four years after Caroline’s death, her voice had finally returned.
And this time, everyone would hear her.
