CHAPTER 10 — THE LETTER FROM PRISON
Almost a year had passed when Grace called me again.
"You received something."
"What is it?"
She hesitated.
"I think you should read it here."
She placed a plain white envelope on the conference table.
The return address was from a state correctional facility.
Victor.
For several minutes, I simply stared at his handwriting.
The same handwriting that had signed fake payroll records.
The same handwriting that had signed insurance forms claiming I didn't exist.
Finally, I opened it.
Evelyn,
I don't expect forgiveness.
I don't even deserve your time.
Prison has a way of stripping away every lie a man tells himself.
For years, I convinced myself I built everything alone.
The truth is, I built my life on your back.
Every scar you showed that day...
I remembered exactly how you got it.
I remembered every single one.
I stopped reading.
Grace quietly asked, "Do you want to throw it away?"
I shook my head.
There was more.
People here know why I'm here.
They don't care about my restaurants.
They don't care about my money.
They only ask one question.
"Why didn't you protect the woman who stood beside you for twenty years?"
I never have an answer.
At the bottom of the page was one final sentence.
You weren't the pack mule.
I was the coward.
I folded the letter.
Carefully.
Then placed it back into the envelope.
Grace looked surprised.
"Aren't you angry?"
"No."
"Then what are you feeling?"
I looked out the window.
"For the first time..."
"I feel nothing at all."
May you like
And somehow...
That felt like freedom
