Chapter 10 - Bloodlines of the Boston DocksTwo weeks later, on a crisp, sunlit Saturday afternoon, Matteo, Bella, and Maeve brought Thomas to the historic cemetery on the bluffs overlooking the harbor.
The cemetery was quiet, peaceful, and bathed in golden autumn light that filtered through the ancient oak trees.
We walked down a secluded gravel path until we reached a beautiful, shaded plot surrounded by blooming white hydrangeas and fragrant rosemary bushes.
Standing beneath a towering granite cross was the headstone of Maeve’s father, Admiral Thomas Vance:
Thomas Vance (1952–2022) — Master Architect of the Atlantic, An Honest Man.
Fresh bouquets of white calla lilies, red roses, and fragrant sweet basil rested at the base of the stone.
Maeve knelt beside her father’s headstone, resting her hand on the carved granite, her amber eyes bright with tears of profound, eternal peace.
"We kept your designs safe, Dad," Maeve whispered softly through her tears. "The hydrofoil is on the water. The foundries are clean. The shadows are gone forever."
Matteo stepped forward, kneeling beside her on the gravel path, his hand resting respectfully on the stone.
"Your daughter carries your genius, Admiral," Matteo said softly, his voice carrying clearly across the quiet churchyard. "She is the sovereign of our fleet. In this house, your courage will never be forgotten."
Thomas knelt beside them, placing a small brass compass beside the lilies on the stone—the identical compass Admiral Vance had carried during forty years of naval trials.
"Thank you, Thomas," Maeve murmured. "We will protect them forever."
Matteo stood up, pulling Maeve into his arms, wrapping his heavy wool overcoat around her shoulders, shielding her from the ocean wind.
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He reached into his pocket and produced an antique silver pocket watch that had belonged to his grandfather, sliding the chain into her palm.
"Our family is whole, Maeve. The water will never rise above our heads."
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