Chapter 17 - Shadows from the Past
Far away from the glittering lights of the Mandarin Oriental, miles uptown in a cramped, damp basement apartment lit only by a sputtering green neon sign outside, Everett Vance sat hunched over a small television set resting on a milk crate.
He had served a truncated sentence—pleading guilty to avoid a maximum federal term, coughing up every hidden asset he ever possessed, leaving him financially and legally destitute for the rest of his natural life. Now working as a night-shift janitor scrubbing floors in a municipal subway station, his hands were calloused, his back ached constantly, and his spirit was completely shattered.
On the tiny television screen, live-streamed from the grand gala downtown, the cameras zoomed in close on Evelyn Hart as she accepted a standing ovation from global leaders.
Everett stared at the screen, his eyes bloodshot, his lips trembling. He reached out a dirty, calloused hand toward the glass, as if trying to touch the ghost of the woman he had once casually ordered to bow down and beg.
May you like
"Evelyn..." he whispered into the damp, lonely air of his basement room, the sound swallowed instantly by the rumble of the subway trains passing overhead.
There was no answer. There was never going to be an answer.
