Chapter 22: The Grave

Her father's grave lay at the top of a hill under a maple that had turned red.

Lucinda went up alone.

The grass was wet, and the stone was plain gray, with his name and two dates and nothing else.

She had not been here once in three years.

She had not been able to come to his funeral, because she was supposed to be dead.

She knelt in front of the stone and put her hand flat on it.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Dad," she said.

The wind moved the leaves.

"I've been sleeping in your old study, Dad. The leather chair still smells like your pipe."

Her voice cracked on the last word.

"I hid for three years. I didn't call. I thought you'd be ashamed of me."

She heard the soft squeak of a wheelchair on the path.

The lawyer rolled up beside her with a blanket over his knees and the cream envelope in his lap.

"Your father wrote this nine days before he died," he said. "He gave it to me with strict instructions."

"What instructions?"

"I was to deliver it only when your uncle could no longer hurt you."

"You waited three years."

"I waited for you to come back from the dead," he said gently. "It took a little longer than I hoped."

She laughed, wetly.

He held out the envelope.

Her father's handwriting was on the front, slanted and impatient.

For Lucinda. If you're reading this, he's finally lost.

She sat back on the wet grass and opened it.

The letter was one page.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Gilded Revenge: The Ex-Wife's Billion-Dollar Empire from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.