Chapter 13: The Coastal Workshop
Five years passed.
The town of Havenport, Maine, was a postcard of rugged Atlantic beauty—rocky shores, salt-scented air, and quiet pine forests.
On the edge of the harbor sat a weathered clapboard workshop bearing a modest wooden sign: *Evans & Daughter Woodcraft.*
Inside, the air smelled of fresh cedar shavings and linseed oil. Dante—now known simply as David—stood over a workbench, smoothing the curve of a handcrafted rocking chair. His hair was streaked with silver at the temples, his tattoos hidden beneath thick flannel shirts, but his posture was upright, his face serene.
An eight-year-old Clara ran into the shop, wearing scuffed sneakers and an oversized apron, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail.
""Dad! The school art show is tomorrow, and I finished the frame!"" she announced, holding up a beautifully joined pine picture frame.
David wiped his hands on a rag, walked over, and inspected her joinery with exaggerated seriousness.
""The corners are perfectly square, the sanding is flawless, and the grain alignment is excellent,"" he pronounced solemnly, before tapping her nose with a sawdust-covered finger. ""You're officially a master artisan.""
Clara giggled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. ""Mom would have liked it, right?""
David’s expression softened with boundless warmth. Over the years, Elena’s memory had become a bright, living light in their home rather than a ghost of tragedy.
May you like
""She would have loved it more than anything,"" David replied.
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