There's a place in every book where all the assembled objects begin to balance. They have slowly come together through many pages and form a cohesive whole.
Of course, this is the end of the story. It's supposed to be satisfying, even if it leaves us with questions and aches to know more. It should never leave us confused, however. All the elements brought into play during the book must be accounted for.
I find that ending a story, especially a book's story, is hard. Every book I finish offers its own particular agony in its ending. Endings leave me really concerned--what sleight of hand to perform that will bring delighted gasps from