Chapter 8 - ROSAMUND’S LAST DAY
Four weeks later, Rosamund packed two suitcases.
The girls cried.
Chadworth did not ask them to stop.
Lorelai hugged Rosamund’s waist.
“Are you coming back?”
“To visit.”
“When?”
“When your dad invites me and I’m free.”
Chadworth almost objected.
Rosamund gave him one look.
Right.
Boundaries.
Gemma handed her the shoebox.
“You forgot this.”
Rosamund shook her head.
“That’s yours.”
Inside were the notes.
The recorder.
The broken necklace.
Evidence of a difficult time.
Gemma looked at it.
Then:
“I don’t want it.”
Rosamund crouched.
“You don’t have to keep it forever.”
“Can I throw it away?”
“Some things should be kept until the adults finish needing them.”
Chadworth nodded.
Legal counsel had already preserved copies where appropriate.
Then Rosamund said:
“After that, you decide.”
Good.
Their story.
Their choice.
---
Chadworth carried her suitcases to the car.
Rosamund looked surprised.
“You have staff.”
“Yes.”
“I was staff.”
“Not today.”
She stared.
Then accepted.
Outside, she opened the trunk of a twelve-year-old Honda.
Chadworth frowned.
“You drive this?”
“Yes.”
“That thing is structurally offensive.”
Rosamund laughed.
“Goodbye, Mr. Prescott.”
He smiled slightly.
“Still Mr. Prescott?”
“Especially now.”
Then he handed her an envelope.
She immediately frowned.
“No.”
“Open it.”
“I don’t want severance beyond my contract.”
“It isn’t.”
She opened it.
Recommendation letter.
Not generic.
Four pages.
Her eleven years.
Reliability.
Management skills.
Childcare.
Household operations.
Emergency judgment.
And one sentence:
Ms. Rosamund Hale demonstrated better judgment regarding the emotional safety of my children than I did during a period when they most required it.
She looked up.
“That line will make people ask questions.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t need to write it.”
“Yes, I did.”
Her eyes filled.
Then he handed her a second paper.
“What’s this?”
“A scholarship award.”
She stiffened.
“No.”
“Not from me.”
He explained.
Years earlier, Rosamund had completed most of a degree in childhood education before leaving school to support her younger brother.
Chadworth had discovered it while preparing the recommendation—not by investigating privately, but because she included the education on her résumé.
The Prescott Foundation already funded adult degree completion programs.
He had expanded eligibility before she applied.
An independent committee would decide.
“No guarantee.”
Rosamund stared.
“You changed a foundation program.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“For people like you.”
“That sounds dangerously close to billionaire nonsense.”
He smiled.
“Apply or don’t.”
She folded the paper.
“I’ll think about it.”
Good.
Choice.
---
She drove away.
Lorelai cried against Chadworth’s side.
Gemma held his hand.
For once, he did not rush them inside.
They stood on the driveway until Rosamund’s old Honda disappeared through the gates.
Then Lorelai whispered:
“Now what?”
Chadworth looked at both daughters.
For years, employees had answered that question for him.
Not anymore.
“Now we figure out dinner.”
Gemma looked horrified.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You burn toast.”
“I have resources.”
“Calling the chef is cheating.”
Chadworth sighed.
“What are the rules?”
The girls started laughing.
May you like
That was the beginning.
---
