Chapter 6 - Twelve Steps
Spring arrived at Blackwood Manor.
Sunlight poured through the greenhouse ceiling.
The orchids were blooming again.
And there were no dead moths beside Vincent’s chair.
Because the chair was gone.
Vincent stood near the entrance holding a cane.
Rosa watched nervously.
Daniel stood nearby pretending not to care.
Mateo sat on a bench.
“Ready?”
Vincent looked at him.
“For what?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve what?”
“Steps.”
Vincent laughed.
“Why twelve?”
“Because ten is too easy.”
Daniel coughed to hide a smile.
Vincent pointed at him.
“You can leave.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
Mateo jumped down.
“Come on.”
Vincent took his first step.
His left leg trembled.
“One,” Mateo announced.
Another.
“Two.”
Vincent focused on the stone path.
“Three.”
Rosa clasped her hands.
“Four.”
By seven, sweat appeared on Vincent’s forehead.
At nine, his knee nearly buckled.
Daniel moved forward.
Vincent raised one hand.
“No.”
Daniel stopped.
Vincent took another step.
Mateo shouted, “Ten!”
Another.
“Eleven!”
Vincent breathed heavily.
His left leg shook.
He looked toward the bench.
It seemed impossibly far away.
Mateo stared at him.
“One more.”
Vincent took the twelfth step.
“TWELVE!”
Mateo threw both arms into the air.
Vincent lowered himself onto the bench.
Rosa wiped tears from her cheeks.
Daniel looked toward the ceiling.
Vincent smiled at him.
“Are you crying?”
“Allergies.”
“In January?”
“It’s spring.”
“Still suspicious.”
Mateo climbed onto the bench.
“I told you.”
Vincent caught his breath.
“Told me what?”
“You weren't dying.”
Vincent looked at him.
“You knew?”
“Yep.”
“How?”
Mateo shrugged.
“The moths were dying faster than you.”
Silence.
Then Vincent laughed.
Not politely.
Not carefully.
He laughed until his ribs hurt.
Rosa looked horrified.
“Mateo!”
“What?”
Vincent waved her off.
“He's right.”
Later that afternoon, Vincent sat alone in the greenhouse.
Daniel entered.
“The board finalized everything.”
“And Marcus?”
“Awaiting trial.”
“Vanessa?”
“Still cooperating with prosecutors.”
Vincent nodded.
He had chosen not to reconcile with her.
Some betrayals could be understood without being forgotten.
Daniel looked around.
“Funny.”
“What?”
“All those investigators. Detectives. Forensic specialists.”
Vincent nodded.
“And?”
“None of them started this.”
Vincent looked toward Mateo playing outside the greenhouse.
“No.”
Daniel smiled.
“A six-year-old did.”
Vincent picked up the tiny glass jar containing the dead white moth.
He had kept it.
Not as a reminder of death.
As a reminder to pay attention.
Years later, newspapers would say Vincent Blackwood survived an attempted corporate takeover because of private investigators, laboratory evidence, and loyal security officers.
They weren't wrong.
They simply missed the most important part.
His empire wasn't saved in a boardroom.
It wasn't saved by wealth.
And it wasn't saved by powerful men.
It was saved because a six-year-old boy wearing dinosaur sneakers noticed a handful of dead white moths that every adult had ignored.
Vincent watched Mateo race toward the greenhouse doors.
“Mr. Blackwood!”
“What now?”
Mateo held something carefully between his hands.
Vincent immediately became suspicious.
“Please tell me that isn't another dead insect.”
Mateo opened his hands.
A living white moth rested on his palm.
Its wings moved slowly.
Vincent stared at it.
Mateo smiled.
“This one's alive.”
For a moment, Vincent said nothing.
Then he smiled too.
“Good.”
The moth lifted from Mateo’s hands.
It fluttered between the orchids before rising toward the sunlight shining through the glass ceiling.
Mateo watched it disappear among the flowers.
Vincent reached for his cane.
“Where are you going?”
Vincent stood.
His left leg trembled.
But it held.
“Thirteen.”
Mateo’s eyes widened.
Then he grinned.
Vincent took another step.
May you like
And this time, nobody in Blackwood Manor was waiting for the old king to die.
They were watching him walk.
