PART 13 — The Final Sacrifice
Julian let out a cry of acute pain as my heel struck his instep. His grip around my neck loosened for a fraction of a second.
This was the chance I had been waiting for.
I let myself fall forward with my full weight and grabbed the heavy glass vase of roses. With a powerful swing, I hurled the vase along with the ice-cold water and sharp stems straight into Julian's face.
The freezing water and thorns hit him squarely in the eyes. He dropped the knife and clutched his face convulsively.
"Now!" De Vos screamed.
Two SWAT agents lunged at Julian like hawks. They tackled him to the ground and slapped sturdy handcuffs onto him within seconds. The knife was kicked away.
I collapsed out of breath onto the wet floor of the back room, amidst the scattered red roses and broken glass.
De Vos hurried over to me and knelt down. "Maria! Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
I slowly shook my head as I labored to stand up with De Vos's help. "I'm… I'm not hurt. Just… tired. So deadly tired."
Hannah emerged from a small storage closet in the back of the room where De Vos had hidden her for her own safety. She ran to me and threw her arms around my neck, weeping. "Maria! Good heavens, how brave you were!"
I looked at the floor, where Julian was being pulled up by the agents. His face was smeared with water and blood from the thorns. He looked at me. The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by a profound emptiness.
"Mother…" he whispered. His voice was broken.
I stared at him. The pain in my heart was indescribable. "I love you, Julian. I will always love you because you are my son. But the man you have become… that man I cannot forgive. You must pay for what you have done."
Julian bowed his head and allowed the agents to lead him away without further resistance. This time there was no escape. The evidence was definitive, the statements given. His career, his power, his freedom—everything was gone forever.
Three months later.
It was a beautiful, mild autumn afternoon. The leaves on the trees in my backyard had turned to gold and red. The storm that had held my life in its grip for months had finally cleared.
Julian was sentenced by the Brussels court to a lengthy prison term for his involvement in the criminal organization, extortion, and attempted manslaughter. Victor and his henchmen were also behind bars. The corruption network that had operated in the shadows for forty years had been completely dismantled thanks to Thomas's documents.
I sat on the bench in my garden, next to the rose bush.
Elena came outside with a tray of tea and fresh apple cake. She placed it on the garden table and sat down beside me.
"What are you thinking about, Maria?" she asked softly.
"About Thomas," I answered with a smile. "I'm no longer angry with him. He wasn't a perfect man, but he fought until his last breath to protect what he loved."
At that moment, the garden gate opened.
Hannah entered the garden. She carried a large box full of colorful autumn flowers from her shop.
"Good afternoon!" she called out with her cheerful voice. "I thought this garden could use a little extra color for the winter!"
I stood up and gave her a warm hug. Hannah had become an integral part of my life over the past few months. She came over every weekend, and we had built a bond that made me feel my family wasn't lost, but rather had grown.
The three of us sat together in the garden—three women brought together by fate, secrets, and courage.
As the sun slowly set, casting a golden glow over the garden, I raised my teacup.
"What are we toasting to?" Elena asked, holding up her cup.
I looked at Elena, the neighbor who had pulled me out of my solitude with a simple plate of food. I looked at Hannah, Thomas's daughter, who had given me a new purpose.
"We toast to the truth," I said quietly. "And to the beginning of a new life."
Elena and Hannah nodded and clinked their cups together.
Yet just as we were about to take a sip, we heard a heavy, distinctive sound at the front door of the house. It sounded as though a heavy metal object had dropped through the mail slot and landed on the hallway floor.
I frowned. "Were you expecting anyone, Elena?"
"No," Elena said, surprised. "The mailman came this morning."
I stood up and walked slowly into the house, followed by Hannah and Elena.
Lying on the mat by the front door was a large black envelope. There was no address on it, no stamp. Only my name, written in a rigid, unfamiliar handwriting:
'For Maria.'
With trembling fingers, I picked up the envelope. I tore it open. Inside lay no letter… but an old brass key. Exactly the same model as the key I had found months ago in Thomas's wooden box.
Lying next to the key was a small card with just a few typed words:
'Thomas wasn't the only one who had a safe. Your secret is not over yet. Look beneath the kitchen floor of your own house.'
I looked up from the card and stared at the floorboards of my very own kitchen… the place where I had walked every single day for forty years…
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