Chapter 9 - Healing in the Sun
Spring arrived in New York with a brilliant explosion of blooming cherry blossoms and warm, golden sunlight that chased away the bitter memories of winter.
Life inside the penthouse at the Meridian Tower had settled into a peaceful, joyous rhythm.
My daughter, whom I named Clara—meaning bright and clear—was now four months old, growing rapidly, kicking her little legs during tummy time while my sister Mara and our father spoiled her rotten whenever they visited.
I spent my mornings reviewing strategic initiatives for the Clara Foundation for Maternal Protection and Legal Aid—an organization we launched using the recovered corporate assets to help abuse survivors break free from financial control—and my afternoons walking Clara through Central Park, feeling completely unbonded, powerful, and deeply at peace.
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Lenora and Arthur Cole had retreated to a tiny, rundown studio apartment two hours outside the city, living off a meager pension and forced to shop at discount grocery stores—experiencing firsthand the very poverty they had once mocked others for enduring. Their high-society friends had long since blocked their number, treating their sudden irrelevance like a contagious disease.
Karma, it turned out, did not require a rush delivery; it simply operated with absolute, unyielding precision.
