Chapter 15
The morning of the exhibition transport arrived with a crisp autumn frost covering the Westchester grass. A specialized flatbed truck idled quietly at the end of the gravel drive, its hydraulic ramp lowered and ready.
Leo stood beside the maroon convertible, wearing his dark polo shirt and heavy work boots. His dark hair was neatly combed, his expression calm and centered. Julian stood next to him, holding the heavy leather binder containing the exhibition paperwork and his brother’s journal.
The transport driver, a weathered man with graying hair and grease-stained hands, carefully guided the winch cable down to the front tow loops of the classic car.
"Easy does it," Leo instructed, guiding the cable alignment with practiced precision. "Don't scratch the front valance."
"Got it, boss," the driver replied, operating the winch with smooth, careful movements.
The maroon convertible rolled slowly up the aluminum ramp of the flatbed, its polished body catching the sharp morning light one last time before settling securely into the enclosed bay of the transport trailer.
Leo watched the rear tires lock into the wheel cradles. He didn't feel the old anxiety or the heavy weight of resentment that had dogged his steps for thirty years. That chapter of his life was closed, resolved not by anger or revenge, but by honest work, forgiveness, and the stubborn refusal to let the past define his future.
Julian placed a warm hand on Leo’s shoulder. "She'll be the star of the show, Leo. And she'll be back in three months, right where she belongs."
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"I know," Leo nodded. "And when she gets back, we've got a Mustang waiting
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