Back at the Sterling estate, the afternoon sun filled the southern wing with warm, golden light.
Lily sat on the edge of a massive, soft canopy bed in what had once been prepared as the nursery seven years ago.
Her tattered cardigan and dirty clothes were gone, replaced by a soft, pale pink cashmere sweater and blue denim overalls.
Her hair had been gently washed by Mrs. Gable, falling in clean, dark brown waves around her shoulders.
On her feet were warm wool socks, her toes wiggling with delight against the thick, plush carpet.
The door clicked open, and Damon entered carrying three colorful boxes wrapped in satin ribbons.
Lily looked up shyly, hugging a brand-new stuffed rabbit tightly against her chest.
"Are those for me?" she asked in a tiny, hesitant whisper.
"Everything in this room is for you, Lily," Damon smiled, sitting beside her on the mattress.
He opened the first box, revealing a pair of shiny red leather shoes with small silver buckles.
Lily gasped, reaching out a hesitant finger to touch the polished leather.
"They're too pretty to touch," she murmured. "I might get mud on them."
Damon’s heart broke and healed in the exact same second.
He gently lifted her small foot, sliding the warm wool sock into the shoe and fastening the silver buckle.
"Shoes are made to walk in, Lily. They're made to run in."
He fastened the second shoe and gently stood her up on the carpet.
Lily took two small, testing steps, watching her reflection in the full-length mirror.
She looked at her red shoes, then down at the clean carpet, then up into Damon's warm hazel eyes.
A tiny, brilliant smile spread across her face—pure, unburdened, and beautiful.
"I have shoes like the girls in the books," she beamed, jumping lightly on the rug.
Damon laughed, a deep, joyful sound that hadn't echoed through the estate in seven long years.
"You have shoes, a home, and a father who will never let you go hungry again."
