Chapter 11 - The Shadow of the Past
The morning sun hit the floor-to-ceiling windows of Carter & Vance Design with blinding brilliance. Simone stood over a architectural blueprint, her golden fountain pen gliding across the paper to adjust a client’s custom kitchen layout.
The door chime rang, sharp and clear.
"Welcome to Carter & Vance, how can I help—" the receptionist began, before her voice hitched into an awkward, choked silence.
Simone didn’t look up immediately, assuming it was a courier or a new vendor. But the oppressive, heavy silence that settled over the showroom floor made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Footsteps approached. Slow, hesitant, dragging.
Simone lifted her head.
Standing ten feet away, leaning heavily against a marble display counter, was a ghost.
David Carter.
He was out. Whether through a federal compassionate release program, a technicality, or sentence reduction, he was standing right here in her showroom. But he looked nothing like the polished, arrogant real estate tycoon who had once worn bespoke suits in Buckhead.
His hair was iron-grey and cropped unceremoniously close to his skull. His skin had the pasty, unhealthy pallor of someone who had spent years staring at concrete walls under fluorescent bulbs. His tailored designer clothes were replaced by an ill-fitting, cheap off-the-rack grey suit that hung loosely off his shrunken frame.
May you like
His eyes, red-rimmed and haunted, locked onto Simone with a desperate, pathetic hunger.
"Simone," he rasped, his voice sounding like dry sandpaper rubbing together. "Hello, Simone."
