Chapter 18 - Building the FoundationBy springtime, the Sterling house was bursting with life and laughter.
The biggest addition to the family was a massive, clumsy Golden Retriever puppy named Barnaby. True to his promise, Thomas had taken Jacob to the local shelter, and the six-year-old had immediately fallen in love with the biggest, goofiest dog there. Barnaby was currently bounding across the sprawling back lawn, chasing a tennis ball Jacob had thrown, his tail wagging furiously.
Inside the house, Thomas was sitting at the kitchen island, reviewing paperwork with Marcus.
"The final liquidation of the Vance assets is complete," Marcus reported, sliding a tablet across the marble counter. "The funds from the sale of their luxury cars, the country club memberships, and the personal estates have been pooled. Totaling roughly forty-two million dollars."
"Good," Thomas said, signing the bottom of a legal document. "Transfer every single penny of it into the Sarah Sterling Foundation."
Marcus smiled. "It's beautifully ironic, sir. Using Robert and Helen's prized possessions to fund youth centers, pediatric medical research, and scholarships for underprivileged kids."
"It's what Sarah would have wanted," Thomas replied softly, looking up as Samuel walked into the kitchen.
The eight-year-old was struggling to carry a massive, complex diorama of the solar system. He wore a ribbon pinned to his shirt that read First Place - State Science Fair.
"Dad! Marcus! Look!" Samuel beamed, setting the diorama down on the counter. "The judges loved the motorized orbit on Jupiter. They said it was high-school level engineering!"
Thomas stood up, his heart swelling with immense pride. He scooped Samuel up in a tight hug. "I am so proud of you, buddy. I told you that telescope would come in handy."
"And Rebecca's art show is tonight!" Samuel reminded them, wiggling out of the hug to grab an apple.
"I haven't forgotten," Thomas smiled.
That evening, the family attended the local middle school's spring art exhibition. Rebecca had a prominent display in the center of the gymnasium. She had drawn a series of stunning charcoal portraits. But the centerpiece, framed in beautiful dark wood, was the sketch of her mother she had shown Thomas months ago.
Below the portrait, a small white card read: My Mother's Light, by Rebecca Sterling.
Thomas stood before the portrait, holding Rebecca's hand. She leaned her head against his arm.
"It's perfect, Becca," he whispered.
May you like
"I don't feel sad when I draw her anymore," Rebecca said, looking up at him with bright, clear eyes. "I just feel happy that she was ours."
Thomas kissed the top of her head. The wounds were healing. The shadows were gone.
