In the end, I decided to keep the money. I broke it up into several accounts so it wasn’t all sitting in one huge sum. I decided instead of just donating it all (but I did donate some), I would use it to make some of my own dreams come true. And Holt didn’t know it, but he was getting a brand-new truck.
“That’s a great idea. You’re going to change a lot of kids’ lives.”
“The way you changed mine.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t change your life. You did.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I almost forgot,” he said, getting up out of bed and going to his dresser. “I have something for you.”
“You do?” I pushed up to lean against the headboard.
He nodded and handed me a small velvet sack. I took it and gave him a curious look, then dumped the contents out onto my palm.
“Oh my…” I gasped, looking up at him. “How did you…?” And then I promptly burst into tears.
He gathered me into his arms and held me until the heaviest of my sobs subsided, and then I leaned away to hold my palm up between us. Brilliant sparkling silver shined up at me.
It was my mother’s necklace.
One of the very last things I had left of her. It was a locket, a silver heart with my birthstone in the center. My shaking hands fumbled with the heart until I got it open, fresh tears forming when I saw the picture of her and me was still inside.
“I thought I lost this in the fire,” I whispered, running a gentle finger over our smiling faces.
“I went to the house and dug around through the rubble, and it was there. Still in one piece. The clasp was broken and it was covered in soot, so I had it cleaned up at the jewelers.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” I said, gripping the necklace in my hand. It was like that piece of her I thought I lost, the piece I’d been grieving since the night of the fire, was back. Now I had this and her letter to Tony (I still wasn’t ready to think of him as my father) to remember her by.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Holt. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, pulling back and wiping away a stray tear on my cheek.
“For what?”
“For withstanding the heat. For fighting for your life. Because without you, everything in my life would be cold.”
I smiled. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. There will always be a fire burning between us.”
And there was.
THE END