Chapter 9 - The Lighthouse Keeper
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of amber, violet, and rose, the guests slowly began to pack up and head home. The backyard grew quiet, save for the gentle rustling of the wind through the oak trees and the soft splashing of the garden fountain.
Noah had finally tired himself out. Clara carried him upstairs, his sleepy head resting heavily against her shoulder just like it had that cold December morning months ago. But this time, there was no dread in the air. No cold kitchen floor. No secrets waiting behind closed doors.
She tucked him gently into his bed, pulling the Avengers blanket up to his chin and placing Captain securely in his arms.
"Goodnight, my sweet boy," Clara whispered, kissing his forehead.
"Goodnight, Mommy," Noah murmured, already half-asleep.
Clara walked down the stairs and stepped out onto the front porch. The evening air was cool and crisp. She reached out and flipped the switch beside the front door.
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The little yellow bulb flickered once, then burst into a warm, steady, golden glow, casting a welcoming circle of light across the porch and down the driveway.
She stood there for a long moment, smiling to herself. She didn't need a lighthouse keeper anymore. She had built her own lighthouse, and the light would never go out again.
