Chapter 9: Cutting Ties

"I survived a hail of bullets on the front lines! I've still got three pieces of shrapnel in me that never came out! Not even God could take me down back then you think a bunch of punks stand a chance?"

Walter raised the blood-slicked axe, pointing it straight at the blond leader, a chilling smile spreading across his weathered face.

"Come on, then. Old man's right here. Anyone not afraid to die, step up."

Something in that raw, battle-hardened calm cut straight through the group's nerve.

"He's insane run!" They hauled their bleeding friend up and scrambled out of the yard.

Clang.

The axe hit the dirt.

The second they were gone, the fire drained out of him. His shoulders sagged.

He turned, pulled Claire into his arms, and stroked the back of her head with those rough, calloused hands.

"It's over. It's over now."

He was shaking.

Not from fear of dying. From fear of failing to protect her.

Before she could even cry, he was already pushing her back, voice urgent.

"Go. Back to the city, right now. You can't stay here I'll send your things after you. Go, quickly."

Looking at her grandfather's weathered face, Claire's tears dried up, replaced by something colder pure, burning anger.

"It was Gary again, wasn't it."

Walter's shoulders dropped. He nodded once, heavily.

Claire took a breath, took his hand, and led him to the spigot in the yard.

Cold well water ran over his hands, washing the blood away.

"Did Gary tell those men I was here?" Her voice came out flat, controlled.

The veins in Walter's neck bulged as he ground out through his teeth: "That worthless excuse for a son."

Claire said nothing. She reached for the rag hanging nearby and carefully dried the water from his hands.

"Grandpa. Pack your things. Come back to the city with me."

"No." He pulled his hand away, turning his back, stubborn as ever. "What would an old man like me do in a big city? Just be a burden to you. I've lived my whole life out here. I'm not leaving it."

"I already paid off what you owed Ryan Walsh's family. All of it."

Walter spun around, disbelief flooding his clouded eyes, followed by something that looked almost like grief.

Seeing his eyes redden, Claire forced a light smile.

"I work for a good company. I make good money now. So relax come live with me. Retire properly, for once."

He shook his head again, twisting the hem of his shirt. "No, no. I don't know a soul in the city. And I just paid a month's rent on that little place at the edge of the village can't let that go to waste."

"I'll cover the rent."

"That's twenty dollars!" he said, alarmed, as if that settled it.

Claire sighed, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around the stubborn old man, voice going soft.

"There's a community center near me chess, calligraphy, plenty of people your age to make friends with. Grandpa... please. Come keep me company. I'm lonely out there by myself."

He went quiet for a long moment, then finally let out a long breath and patted her on the back.

"Fine. But that rent isn't going to waste I'll clean the place out, say my goodbyes around here, and come see you next month."

Claire's eyes filled again. She held out her pinky finger. "Deal."

Deal.

Back inside, the noodles lay scattered across the floor, broth pooling everywhere.

Walter took one look at the mess and rolled his sleeves back up. "Hang on Grandpa's making you that shredded chicken."

"Okay." Claire nodded firmly.

Not long after, the local council and a couple of police officers showed up.

Walter was eighty years old, a decorated veteran who'd earned his medals young, on real battlefields.

Since the intruders had broken into private property and started the confrontation, it was clear-cut self-defense. The older officer took his statement, gave him a mild warning about restraint going forward, and left it at that.

That evening, Claire cooked a full table of food.

Then the gate slammed open again.

Gary stormed in, face still bruised and swollen, Linda trailing behind him, out of breath. He pointed straight at Claire, already shouting.

"Look at you, all grown up! Disappear for years and now you can't even recognize your own family! All those years I raised you, for nothing!"

Walter shot up, grabbing the broom from behind the door. "You two have the nerve to show up here? Get out!"

At the table, Claire kept eating her soup, calm, not even glancing up.

"Grandpa raised me."

"Grandpa raised you?" Gary jabbed a finger toward her face. "Who paid for your school when you were little? Who fed you, housed you that all cost money!"

Linda clutched his arm, crying. "You used to be such a good girl. What happened to you..."

Claire set down her spoon and dabbed her mouth with a napkin, unhurried.

"Public school was free through ninth grade. I got a full scholarship for high school, lived on campus. I only came home on weekends for buns and pickled vegetables, twice a day."

Linda sobbed from the corner. "Claire, sweetheart, your parents just we didn't have much, our situation was"

Claire cut her off with a dry laugh. "Limited? My little brother got roast duck for dinner every night."

Linda went pale. "He's still growing"

"Right." Claire took a slow breath. "Forget it. I already paid five hundred thousand dollars to clear your debts. Consider that repayment in full for raising me."

At the mention of the number, Gary showed no shame at all he jumped up, furious.

"That just proves how stupid you are! Ryan's father never even pushed us for that money why'd you rush to pay it off? How did I raise such an idiot?"

He spat as he ranted, working himself into righteous fury.

"If you'd just married Ryan, you wouldn't owe anyone a cent and I'd have gotten a son-in-law who owns a whole vineyard!"

Walter shook with rage, slamming the broom down onto the floor.

"Out! Both of you, out of my house!"

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing," Gary snapped. "Taking him back with you? You're after his pension. Three thousand a month, right?"

Watching her grandfather go white with anger, Claire stood, gently steadying his shoulder, her eyes gone colder than ever.

"Grandpa doesn't need either of you to take care of him."

She walked to her room, returned with a document she'd drafted that afternoon, and laid it out plainly.

"The house is yours. As of today, Grandpa and I are done with you. Completely."

"What did you say?" Gary froze.

"The house is yours sell it, live in it, whatever you want. The condition is you sign this and never show your face in front of either of us again."

Years at Nathaniel's side had given Claire a presence that filled the room without effort.

"You don't have to sign. But if you walk away now, don't expect a cent from that house later. I'll take Grandpa and disappear, and I promise you'll never find him."

Gary snatched the paper before she could reconsider, signing it in a rush.

Linda grabbed for his arm, wanting to add her own signature, but he shoved her off. She stumbled and hit the ground, covering her face and sobbing.

Claire helped her grandfather back into his seat, set a fresh bowl of soup in front of him, and smiled gently.

"Drink up, Grandpa. It's no good once it's cold.”