Chapter 10 - The Second Time Lucia Walked Into the Snow.
Lucia disappeared again in March.
No storm.
No sedative error.
No Evergreen nurse.
That made it worse for Damon.
Delaney was at work when Frank called.
Not Damon.
Frank.
“Lucia left the estate.”
Delaney gripped phone.
“When?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Garden door. Companion was in bathroom.”
“Bracelet?”
“On dresser.”
There.
Lucia had chosen not to wear it.
Important.
“Police?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Damon wants five minutes.”
Of course.
“Tell him no.”
Frank sighed.
“I did.”
Good.
Lake Forest police were notified.
Not hidden.
No black SUVs quietly searching before public help.
Progress.
Delaney clocked out after her supervisor found someone to cover.
Not because Damon ordered.
Because she wanted to help.
On train north, she called him.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Train.”
“I’ll send a car.”
“No.”
“Delaney.”
“Use your cars to search.”
Silence.
“Right.”
Good.
His voice was too controlled.
“Any clue?”
“Her coat is gone.”
“Which?”
“Blue wool.”
“Bag?”
“Small purse.”
“Cash?”
“Yes.”
“Phone?”
“No.”
“Does she have old transit card?”
Frank checking.
Then:
“Yes.”
There.
Lucia had not simply drifted barefoot into snow.
She had prepared in the way her impaired planning allowed.
“Where would she go?”
Damon’s voice cracked.
“I don’t know.”
Delaney thought of first night.
Marco’s.
Cannoli.
Closed twelve years.
“Did anyone check old Marco’s location?”
Silence.
“Damon.”
“Frank.”
She heard him call.
Address.
The original Marco’s pastry shop had become a pharmacy years ago.
Police checked.
Nothing.
Then Delaney remembered Lucia’s garden cabinet.
Elaine’s photograph.
Foundation.
Places tied to old memory.
“Where did your foundation office used to be?”
Damon froze.
“Downtown.”
“Still there?”
“No. Moved six years ago.”
“What was old building?”
“Community center.”
“Check.”
He did.
Nothing.
Then:
“Where did she and your father live before Lake Forest?”
“Bridgeport.”
“Address?”
He gave.
A brick two-flat now owned by another family.
Police contacted.
No Lucia.
Damon’s breathing changed.
Delaney could hear him slipping toward panic.
“Stop.”
“What?”
“You are making a list of places she used to know.”
“Yes.”
“What did she talk about this week?”
Silence.
“Damon.”
He thought.
“She asked Frank whether the lake was frozen.”
“Anything else?”
“She said she wanted to see birds.”
“What birds?”
“I don’t know.”
Delaney closed eyes.
Lucia loved gardening.
Maybe lakefront sanctuary.
“Did she have a favorite park?”
Damon said:
“Montrose.”
Too far maybe.
Then:
“Not park. The conservatory.”
“What conservatory?”
“Lincoln Park.”
There.
Glass house.
Plants.
Warm.
Old people with memories of winter.
Possible.
Police notified.
Frank sent a car there.
Delaney’s train was already headed city.
She changed.
At 1:37 p.m., she reached Lincoln Park Conservatory.
Damon arrived two minutes later.
He looked terrifying.
Not because angry.
Because afraid.
Security spread discreetly.
Police officer near entrance.
They did not shout Lucia’s name inside.
Good.
Staff checked.
An older woman in blue coat had purchased coffee at nearby café forty minutes earlier.
Direction:
South toward zoo.
They walked.
Then Delaney saw her.
Lucia sat on a bench beside a dormant garden bed.
Feeding crackers to sparrows.
Alive.
Warm enough.
Confused perhaps.
But calm.
Damon stopped so abruptly Delaney nearly hit him.
His face broke.
“Ma.”
Lucia looked.
For a second, no recognition.
Damon’s chest seemed to stop.
Then:
“Damon?”
He exhaled.
“Yes.”
He crossed slowly.
Not running.
Good.
“Can I sit?”
She frowned.
“It is a bench.”
He laughed through tears.
Sat.
Delaney stayed back.
This was theirs.
Lucia said:
“I wanted to see the bulbs.”
“What bulbs?”
“Spring.”
She pointed at bare soil.
“They come before you think.”
Damon closed eyes.
Then:
“You scared me.”
Lucia looked ashamed.
Delaney’s heart tightened.
Damon corrected quickly.
“I am glad I found you.”
Better.
Lucia looked at bracelet-less wrist.
“I did not want the machine.”
“I know.”
“I am not a dog.”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
Then:
“Can we go home?”
Lucia looked at Delaney.
There.
Permission? Trust?
Delaney stepped closer.
“You warm enough?”
“Yes.”
“Tired?”
“A little.”
“Do you want to go home?”
Lucia thought.
“Yes.”
Good.
Choice.
They returned.
No lecture in car.
No anger.
At estate, Damon wanted immediate tighter restrictions.
He said it in the study later.
“She cannot leave alone again.”
Dr. Cole was there.
Frank.
Delaney.
Lucia.
Important.
Lucia said:
“No.”
Damon’s face hardened.
“Ma.”
“No.”
Dr. Cole intervened.
“Absolute restriction may reduce risk but also quality of life.”
“She was missing two hours.”
“Yes.”
“She could have been hit by car.”
“Yes.”
“She could have fallen.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So we build support proportionate to risk.”
Damon stood.
“I hate that sentence.”
Delaney said:
“Because it does not give you total control.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
Honest.
Good.
Lucia touched table.
“I want to walk.”
“You can walk with someone.”
“I want to walk alone sometimes.”
Damon said:
“No.”
There.
Delaney waited.
Lucia’s face closed.
That was the danger.
Not the word itself.
The way conversation ended.
Delaney asked Lucia:
“What would make you willing to wear bracelet?”
Damon looked irritated.
Lucia thought.
“If it looked like watch.”
Frank wrote.
“Anything else?”
“No tracking unless I leave property.”
Damon said:
“That defeats—”
Dr. Cole held hand.
“Geofencing can do that.”
Technical solution.
Lucia continued.
“I want garden gate unlocked during day.”
Damon:
“With companion outside.”
Lucia:
“Nearby.”
Compromise.
They negotiated.
Forty minutes.
Exhausting.
Good.
Final plan:
Watch-style geofence device Lucia agreed to wear outside bedroom.
Garden access daytime with companion on property, not hovering.
Solo walks permitted within defined estate grounds during daylight if device active.
Off-property outings with companion unless reviewed later.
Emergency alert if geofence crossed unexpectedly.
Weekly care planning with Lucia present.
No medication changes without Dr. Cole’s direct confirmation.
No shared credentials.
No Evergreen.
Damon hated several parts.
Lucia hated several.
That meant compromise.
Later, Delaney found Damon alone in library.
He stared at rain.
“You found her.”
“We found her.”
“You knew where to look.”
“I guessed.”
“I would have searched every old address.”
“And probably sent helicopters.”
“I considered.”
She laughed.
Then softened.
“You did something important.”
“What?”
“You called police immediately.”
“Frank did.”
“You allowed.”
He looked at her.
“I hated it.”
“Still did.”
Good.
Then Damon said:
“When she looked at me and did not know me for that second—”
His voice stopped.
Delaney sat beside him.
No touching yet.
“Yeah.”
“What happens when she doesn’t remember?”
“You introduce yourself.”
He looked.
“She said that?”
“No. I did.”
Then Delaney smiled sadly.
“She might forget your name before she forgets that she feels safe when you sit beside her.”
His eyes filled.
“That is not guaranteed.”
“No.”
Good.
No false comfort.
“Nothing is.”
He looked down.
Then:
“I want to lock every door.”
“I know.”
“I want to keep her where I can see her.”
“I know.”
“And that would make me feel better.”
“Yes.”
“Not necessarily her.”
“Exactly.”
He breathed.
Then held out his hand.
Not took.
Offered.
Delaney placed hers in it.
Good.
They sat.
Later that night, Lucia came into library wearing new prototype watch Frank had found online.
Ugly.
Silver.
She hated it.
Damon hated it less because it worked.
Lucia raised wrist.
“This is hideous.”
Delaney said:
“Very.”
Damon looked offended.
“I bought three.”
“Return them.”
Lucia sat.
Then looked at Delaney.
“Have we met?”
The question came without warning.
Damon went still.
Delaney’s heart hurt.
She smiled.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In a restaurant kitchen during a snowstorm.”
Lucia frowned.
Then slowly smiled.
“Soup.”
There.
Memory returned.
Maybe only piece.
Enough.
“You gave me soup.”
“Yes.”
Lucia reached for her hand.
“Good girl.”
Delaney squeezed.
Damon looked away.
The second time Lucia walked out, no one had drugged her.
No conspiracy.
No villain.
Just illness, autonomy, and the terrible fact that safety could never be absolute.
That frightened Damon more than any enemy.
But this time, instead of turning fear into control, he stayed at the table long enough to negotiate with the person he was trying to protect.
The next morning, Damon called a family meeting with the care team.
Delaney was not there.
Good.
He told her about it later.
Lucia had requested a written “freedom plan,” her phrase, not the doctors’.
It listed what she could do alone, what required check-in, and what would trigger emergency intervention.
It also listed what staff were not allowed to do.
No hiding keys unless immediate safety risk.
No changing medication without direct physician confirmation.
No speaking about Lucia in third person while she sat in the room.
No using the word “wandered” if she had intentionally gone somewhere and simply become disoriented later.
That last one was Lucia’s.
Damon hated it.
Then accepted.
Delaney said:
“She is terrifying.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get your personality?”
He looked offended.
“Not from her.”
Delaney laughed.
The plan could not guarantee another safe outcome.
Everyone knew.
But it turned fear into specific actions instead of blanket control.
May you like
For Damon, that may have been harder than hiring twenty guards.
Lucia signed the plan herself. Damon signed beneath her only as emergency contact, not owner of the decision. Delaney later told him that was probably the most romantic paperwork he would ever complete. He told her she had ruined romance permanently. She considered that a success.
