Chapter 9 - The Return to OakridgeThree weeks later, the sun broke through the heavy gray winter clouds over Oakridge Manor, casting a brilliant, warm light across the snow-covered grounds.
A black limousine pulled up the long, winding driveway, stopping at the base of the grand limestone steps.
Harrison stepped out first, wearing a dark wool coat. He turned and reached back into the car, gently helping Eleanor down onto the stone terrace. She wore a warm beige cashmere coat, her color fully returned, her hand resting securely in her husband’s strong grip.
Julian bounded out of the car behind them, wearing a new winter coat and boots, holding the silver-framed photograph of his mother that he had carried into the house three weeks ago.
Standing on the front porch to welcome them was the entire household staff, led by Martha, the head housekeeper. Tears of joy streamed down the old woman's cheeks as she curtsied deeply.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Sterling," Martha sobbed softly. "The house has been waiting for you."
Eleanor walked up the steps, her arm looped through Harrison’s. She paused at the massive oak double doors—the doors where her life had been ripped away six years ago—and took a deep, grounding breath.
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She turned to Harrison, a radiant, serene smile gracing her lips. "It doesn't smell like cold malice anymore, Harrison."
"No," Harrison whispered, leaning down to press a soft, loving kiss to her lips. "It smells like home."
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