Chapter 15 - The Unbreakable Ledger
Two years later, the spring thaw came early to Boston, turning the brick sidewalks of Hanover Street a clean, wet red under a bright blue Atlantic sky.
The block around Hayes Restoration no longer looked like a war zone of luxury construction sites. Russo Development’s revised civic blueprint had transformed the surrounding lots into a public heritage park, featuring cobblestone walkways, historic gas lamps, and a small, beautifully landscaped courtyard dedicated to the independent artisans of the North End.
Inside the shop, the bell above the door chimed with a crisp, cheerful ring.
A young woman in a sharp blue blazer pushed open the door, carrying a small oak footstool with a cracked cabriole leg.
“Excuse me,” she said hesitatingly, looking around the cluttered, sunlit room filled with polished mahogany, dust motes, and the smell of fresh varnish. “Do you guys still repair antique furniture?”
From behind the high wooden counter, a toddler with dark curly hair and a tiny plastic mallet clutched in his fist popped up, babbling happily before dropping his toy with a loud clatter against the wide oak floorboards.
Nora stepped out from the back workshop, wiping her hands on her linen apron, an amber ring gleaming brightly on her left hand.
“We do,” Nora smiled, walking toward the counter as the heavy oak door opened wider behind the customer.
Dominic walked in out of the spring sunshine, shaking a light spring mist from the shoulders of his charcoal wool coat. He looked around the shop—at the restored sideboards, at the sunlight streaming through the beveled glass, at the small boy now trying to hammer a wooden block into the baseboard—and then his dark eyes found Nora’s across the room.
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He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
The ledger was closed. The foundation was set in granite. And no matter what storms rolled in off the Boston harbor, some things could never, ever be broken.
