Page 145 of One Secret

EPILOGUE

Over the next year, my life was overhauled and rebuilt into something beautiful. Whilst Lana made good on her threat to show up in Rome, she was equally true to her promise of disappearing. After getting what was promised her, she vanished into the ether. It was the last we saw of any Caruso for some time.

Not long after that, Cyrus and I moved north, taking a house in Bolzano in South Tyrol. Nestled amongst majestic mountain peaks and crystal-clear lakes, it's the kind of place where the air is so clear that it lights you up from the inside out. Our town has no cinema and no shopping malls. No gun store. But it has everything that matters. Everything raw and vibrant about life.

It's here that we had our child. Sonea Alesi was born to the world angry, squawling and thoroughly put out by the entire process. For months she was a persistent, wrathful noise, only quieting when cradled in Cyrus's arms. Something about his presence or his smell, had her falling into sleepy tranquility, her pudgy little fingers reaching for his warmth.

As Sonea grew, our life became no less chaotic. But all the sweeter for it. After many late-night conversations and careful discussion, we decided to send our daughter to a residential school. The finest and most secure facility we could find. When she's away, Cyrus and I work, sometimes separate but often together. After a tense period of adjustment, Cyrus, Nat and I now operate as a team. Though I take the front line work solo, I'm never alone on a mission. I have a guardian angel in my ear and a protective Ghost keeping me forever in his crosshairs.

Four times a year, all missions are put on hold. Sonea returns home and we're always there. Without fail. We take her to hockey practice and go hiking as a family. We suffer through her flute recitals, less proud of her musical talent than we are of her refusal to accept so we decided on a limitation. Sometimes, we do nothing at all. We just are. As a couple. As a family.

As the years go by, I try to remember the smaller moments. The sound of Cyrus's breath in my ear when I'm on assignment. The look in his eye when we watch our daughter streaking across a hockey pitch... The way he texts me when nearly back from assignment:

"I'm home."

Our life is, admittedly, a hodge-podge. A patchwork of different worlds. Some are violent and dangerous. Some are soft and tender. Nothing matches. It's all just a unique mess of details. But every one of those details is ours. It turns out that Cyrus was right. The important things in life are what you choose to make important. What you choose to love, trust and put your faith into.

The End

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