Chapter 9 - The Harbor of the Five
The summer of 2027 returned to Lake Forest with a magnificence that made the old stone house look like a fortress of light. The roses along the iron fence were in full bloom, their deep pink petals dropping onto the green grass like confetti after a wedding.
It was a Saturday afternoon—exactly two years since the day I had walked onto that first-class cabin with nothing but a book and a five-year-old secret.
The front yard was filled with our family—my mother, Arthur, Dr. Marcus Vance, who had flown in from Zurich to see his favorite triplets, and several of the research engineers from our Queens laboratory. There were no corporate banners, no stock tickers, and no photographers from the financial press. There was only the sound of a small brass band playing by the well house and the smell of fresh crab cakes baking on the grill.
I sat on the wide stone steps of the porch, my bare feet tucked into the cool clover, a plate of fruit in my lap. Blake sat on the tier below me, his dark hair damp from the pool, his long legs stretched out into the sunshine.
Liam and Lucas were currently engaged in a high-stakes football match against Arthur, while Leo sat on Blake’s shoulders, his small red shoes clicking rhythmically against Blake’s collarbone as he waved a yellow plastic flag toward the lake.
"Mom! Look at Dad!" Leo screamed, pointing down toward the water where a small, white-sailed catboat was tethered to the private dock. "He says we're going to the big island tomorrow! To find the turtles!"
"The island requires life jackets, Leo!" I called back, a genuine, beautiful laugh breaking from my throat as I reached down to slide my fingers through Blake’s thick hair.
Blake turned his face, his lips pressing gently against the palm of my hand with a warmth that felt like the sun coming up over the river after a midnight shift. The family empire that had almost destroyed us had been dismantled and rebuilt into something smaller, cleaner, and completely unshakeable—a foundation that didn't care about market indexes or board majorities, because it was anchored entirely by the three pairs of pale-green eyes that were currently racing across the lawn toward us.
"Are you ready for the winter term, Em?" Blake asked softly, his hand reaching up to lock his fingers with mine.
"The winter term is months away, Blake," I said, leaning down to kiss the crown of his head. "The lake is warm. The boat is ready. And the boys... the boys have already forgotten the name Harrington anyway."
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"Good," Blake grinned, standing up and lifting Leo down into the grass before reaching out his hands to pull me up from the stone step. "Because the name Winters sounds much better when you're trying to build a harbor."
We walked down the steps into the golden light together, our fingers locked in a grip that had survived the lawyers, the rumors, and the long, cold silence of a Manhattan skyscraper—ready for the long, warm season that was finally ours to keep.
