19 Chapter 19 - Low Tide Farewell 19 Chapter 19 - Low Tide Farewell The sun had barely risen when a lone figure approached the lighthouse. 1 He wore a simple gray sweatshirt, jeans, and carried a worn canvas rucksack. No entourage. No headlines. Just Mason Rutherford. The gates were open. The wind off the Sound was crisp, carrying the scent of seaweed, salt, and early morning regret. Mason paused at the foot of the porch steps, hesitated, then knocked-once. Elias Byrne answered the door with a steady gaze and a mug of black coffee in hand. "Didn't think I'd see you again," he said, not unkind. Mason nodded. "I'm not here to disrupt anything" "You didn't bring cameras?" "No." "Good. She's not here anyway." Mason looked past the old man toward the faint line of the water. "That's probably for the best." He reached into his rucksack and pulled out a sealed envelope and a small stack of bills. "Restitution," he said. "For the woman you saved when I didn't." Elias took the envelope but said nothing. Then Mason turned to leave. But paused again. "Did she ever... talk about me?" Elias took a long sip. "She stopped talking about you the day she stopped needing your name to define strength." < 19 Chapter 19 - Low Tide Farewell Mason nodded. That was all he needed. He walked along the shoreline, each step careful, deliberate. The lighthouse loomed behind him. The tide rolled in gentle swells, like a slow exhale. He stood still for a long time, staring at the waves as they erased the footprints he left. Some things weren't meant to stay. Some scars, he realized, didn't need to be reopened to be honored. He knelt, touched the water, and whispered, "Goodbye, Iris." The wind responded with a low moan through the reeds. Then silence. A few hours later, he boarded a westbound bus at the village station, unnoticed. No security detail. No suitcase. No destination beyond intention. He sat by the window and watched the sea disappear behind trees and asphalt. In his jacket pocket was a note he'd written to himself in jail: > "Freedom is measured not by what you take-but by what you finally choose to let go." He didn't know where the road led. Only that he'd follow it with quieter hands. Across the city, the world moved on. Tabloids grew bored. Social feeds shifted to the next scandal. 10:16 < 19 Chapter 19 - Low Tide Farewell Rutherford Holdings quietly restructured. Mason's name slipped from headlines like fog from glass. But in disaster relief kitchens, his name began to appear again-quietly-on volunteer rosters. In scholarships paid for by anonymous donors. In whispered encouragement to broken men who believed they couldn't change. He didn't ask for credit. He didn't expect redemption. Only responsibility. Back at the lighthouse, Elias burned the envelope Mason left-after depositing the money directly into the Designs of Healing trust. He watched the smoke curl toward the sea. "No ghosts here," he murmured. And turned back toward the warmth of the cottage. That evening, Lina stood on the rooftop of her Manhattan studio, watching the sunset blush the East River pink. Bruce joined her, two mugs in hand. "One day left," he said, handing her tea. "The gala," she said. He nodded. "You ready?" 10:16 < 19 Chapter 19 - Low Tide Farewell She smiled. "For once," she said softly, "I am." They stood in silence as the lighthouse across the bay blinked faintly in the distance-steady, unwavering. A signal. A farewell. And a promise that even the lowest tides leave room for return. But only if you come back different. Comment 0 Leave the first comment for this chapter. Vote 5 Show support to the author by leaving comments when sending gift. Swipe Left To Continue > 图 Send Gifts 10:16 414