THE LULLABY KEY : THE FALL
CHAPTER 52: The Lullaby, Sung Again
Five years later.
Lena stood on the porch of a small house in Maine. Not the cabin. A new house. One she and Marcus had built together, with wood from the forest and nails from the hardware store and love from the bottom of their hearts.
The house had a ramp, not stairs. Wide doorways. A bathroom Marcus could use without help. It wasn’t fancy. It was home.
Marcus sat on the porch in his wheelchair, a cup of coffee in his hand, a smile on his face.
“The garden needs weeding,” he said.
“I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“I meant it yesterday. I mean it today. Tomorrow I’ll mean it again.”
He laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“You married me anyway.”
“Best decision I ever made.”
She sat down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her.
They watched the sun set over the trees.
A sound from inside the house.
A baby’s cry.
Lena stood up. “I’ll get her.”
“No. Let her cry for a minute. She needs to learn patience.”
“She’s six months old. She doesn’t need to learn anything except that her parents love her.”
Marcus smiled. “You’re going to spoil her.”
“Absolutely.”
Lena walked inside.
The nursery was small and bright, with hand-painted animals on the walls and a mobile made of pinecones. In the crib, a baby girl was crying, her face red, her fists clenched.
Lena picked her up.
“Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay, little one. Mama’s here.”
The baby’s cries softened.
Lena held her close.
She began to sing.
The lullaby. The one her mother had sung to her. The one her father had used as a key.
“Find the key behind the sea,
where the numbers sing to me.
Seven steps and seven more,
to the truth behind the door.”
The baby’s eyes fluttered. Her breathing slowed.
Lena kept singing.
“Husha-bye, don’t you cry,
go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you shall have,
all the pretty little horses.”
The baby fell asleep.
Lena kissed her forehead.
She walked back to the porch.
Marcus was watching the stars.
“She’s down?”
“She’s down.”
“Good. Now sit with me.”
She sat on his lap again.
They watched the stars.
The sky was clear. The air was cool. The world was quiet.
Somewhere out there, August Marchetti was still free.
Somewhere out there, the fight continued.
But not tonight.
Tonight, there was only this.
A porch. A wheelchair. A ring on a finger.
And a lullaby that meant more than any password ever could.
Lena leaned her head on Marcus’s shoulder.
“Tell me a story,” she said.
“What kind of story?”
“A happy one.”
Marcus thought for a moment.
“Once upon a time, there was a woman who was afraid of everything. And a man who was afraid of nothing. And they met in the middle of a disaster, and they fell in love, and they built a house, and they had a baby, and they lived.”
“That’s not a story. That’s a summary.”
“Then write the story yourself. You’re good at that.”
Lena smiled.
She closed her eyes.
And she dreamed of the future.
Not the past.
Not the pain.
Not the ghosts.
The future.
THE END