Chapter 9 - Shadows Behind BarsDeep within the gray, sterile confines of a federal holding facility outside Boston, Ethan Walker sat in a coarse orange jumpsuit.
His hair was unstyled, his face gaunt, and his designer shoes replaced by standard-issue canvas slip-ons. The high-society galas, the champagne toasts, and the adoring crowds were all ghosts of a delusion he had paid for with his entire future.
A correctional officer tossed a plain white envelope onto the metal table in front of him.
"Mail call, Walker," the guard muttered.
Ethan stared at the envelope. There was no return address. With trembling, calloused fingers, he tore it open.
Inside was a single photograph.
It showed Emma standing radiant and smiling on the sunny terrace of a restored downtown building, holding the architectural blueprints for a new community center, with the Boston skyline glowing brilliantly behind her. On the back of the photo, written in Emma’s familiar, precise handwriting, were five simple words:
May you like
Thank you for the seat.
Ethan dropped the photograph onto the metal table, burying his face in his hands as the heavy steel door slammed shut behind him.
