Chapter 23 - The Richmond Silence
The phone rang four times before an automated tone cut through the static.
“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Grant stared at the glowing screen of the burner phone, his breath catching in his throat. He had forgotten. Two years prior, during the third year of his sentence, his mother Eleanor had passed away quietly in a Richmond nursing home. Because he was a convicted felon incarcerated in a maximum-security federal wing, he hadn't even been permitted to attend her funeral. Sterling had sent him a brief, formal notification letter, accompanied by a box containing her personal Bible and a silver locket.
The full weight of his isolation crashed down on him with the crushing force of a physical blow. He staggered backward, his back hitting a brick retaining wall outside a local diner, and slid down until he was sitting on the cold concrete sidewalk, burying his face in his hands as dry, racking sobs shook his frame.
He had traded everything—a brilliant, fiercely loyal wife, a newborn child, a life of honor and quiet security—for the hollow phantom of corporate status and an illicit affair built on sand. And now, ten years later, he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
May you like
As he sat there in the dirt, a sleek black military transport vehicle rolled silently down the suburban street, slowing slightly as it passed the intersection. Through the tinted window of the SUV, Major General Tessa Langley sat in the back seat, reviewing a tablet briefing. She didn't look out the window. She didn't need to. Grant Holloway was no longer even a memory worth the energy of a glance; he was a footnote in a closed chapter of history.
The vehicle accelerated smoothly, disappearing around the corner and leaving Grant alone with the cold autumn wind.
