Chapter 10 - The Weight of the Tide
One year to the day after the car plunged into Savannah Creek, the Vance family gathered for a quiet dinner at the historic estate.
The mansion had been completely restored, stripped of its dark, oppressive mahogany and heavy velvet drapes, replaced with bright, open spaces filled with natural light, modern art, and the sound of classical music playing softly in the background.
Martha Vance—their mother, whose memory had been preserved through medical care and legal vindication—sat at the head of the dining table, laughing as Tobias recounted a complicated software algorithm he had spent the week debugging.
Rosalind sat beside her brother, raising a crystal glass of sparkling cider in a silent toast.
She looked at her hands—steady, strong, and completely free of the tremors the neurotoxin had once caused. She felt the steady, rhythmic beat of her own heart, unclouded by poison, unburdened by lies, and completely unbound by fear.
The river had tried to claim her. The men who thought they owned her had tried to bury her at the bottom of the world.
Instead, she had risen from the depths, broken the chains of the past, and reclaimed her rightful throne.
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As the laughter echoed through the dining room and the harbor lights glittered across the Baltimore skyline, Rosalind smiled into her glass.
The storm had passed. The tide had turned. And she was finally home.
