CHAPTER TWENTY: ONE LAST SOUND
The replacement window was installed on Friday morning.
Daniel stood back while the glazier cleaned the last fingerprints from the frame.
The glass made the patio look strangely sharp, as though the yard had been brought into focus.
At noon he cooked the first proper meal in the kitchen since Carol threw the chair.
He chopped tomatoes, heated a pan, and let music play quietly from a speaker on the counter.
Marissa came over with her husband, and the three of them ate at the small table beside the window.
Nobody mentioned Lewis until dessert.
Marissa said the wildlife case could take time and that Daniel should not organize his life around waiting for updates.
He agreed.
There were repairs, interviews, and expenses still to settle.
There were also tomatoes to water and ordinary afternoons to enjoy.
After his guests left, Daniel stepped into the yard and checked the latch on his gate.
Carol was pruning a rosebush on the other side of the fence.
She put down her shears when she saw him.
“Your window looks good,” she said.
“It does.”
“I’m paying the rest of the repair bill next week.”
“The contractor will send the final invoice.”
She nodded and returned to her roses.
Daniel turned toward the house.
A sudden flutter above him made him look up.
A small brown sparrow had landed on the fence, carrying a strand of dry grass in its beak.
It waited until he stepped aside, then flew toward a nest in the hedge.
Daniel watched it go without trying to follow.
For months he had heard wings in his wall without understanding what they meant.
Now a bird was choosing its own place to land in the open air.
He went inside and shut the patio door behind him.
The End.
