Chapter 5 - The Letter
The ballroom was so quiet that Emily’s soft answer seemed to echo off the walls.
Sarah.
The name shattered the last of Richard’s carefully built defenses.
The reporters stopped recording, suddenly realizing they were witnessing something deeply personal and painful.
The guests leaned forward, their curiosity replaced by a strange, heavy tension.
Richard looked at the little girl.
Then he looked at the photograph.
Then he looked back at the little girl’s face.
For the first time, he really looked at her features.
He looked past the dirt, past the tangled hair, past the faded dress.
He saw her eyes.
Those striking, deep blue eyes.
They were not just Sarah’s eyes.
They were his eyes.
The exact same shade of blue he saw in the mirror every morning.
His heart began to beat frantically against his ribs, like a trapped bird.
"Where is your mother now, Emily?" he asked, his voice trembling with a terrifying realization.
Emily’s long eyelashes fluttered, and she looked down at her scuffed shoes.
Her voice was barely audible.
"She passed away. Two weeks ago."
The words hit Richard like a physical blow to the chest.
He fell back against his chair, gasping for air.
Dead.
The vibrant, beautiful girl from the lake was gone.
And he had never got to say goodbye.
Twenty years ago, before he had a single dollar to his name, Richard had loved Sarah.
But Richard’s family was old money.
Aristocrats who valued lineage and wealth above all else.
Sarah was the daughter of a factory worker.
Richard’s father had threatened to disown him, but Richard hadn't cared. He wanted to marry her.
But then, Richard had to travel to Europe to secure the initial funding for his first startup.
He promised to write. He promised to return.
But the letters stopped coming.
His calls went unanswered.
When he returned months later, Sarah’s apartment was empty.
He was told she had moved away with another man.
He believed the lie.
He believed she had abandoned him.
In his grief, he threw himself into his work, becoming the ruthless billionaire he was today.
But he had never forgotten her. He had never married.
Emily reached into her small pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper from the envelope.
"There was also a letter," she said softly.
Richard took the paper with trembling hands.
He unfolded it.
The handwriting was neat, elegant, and instantly recognizable.
May you like
It was Sarah's handwriting.
With tears streaming freely down his face, the billionaire began to read the final words of his lost love.
