Chapter 7 - The Final PleaThe autumn air was crisp and biting the morning I received the handwritten letter from the Georgia State Penitentiary.
The envelope was cheap, coarse gray paper, stamped with the prison’s official inspection mark. Inside was a single sheet of lined paper, covered in Caleb’s frantic, jagged handwriting.
Elizabeth,
I am writing this from a cell block that smells of sweat, rust, and despair. I have no one left. My lawyers abandoned me because I can't pay them. My mother called me once from a payphone to curse my name because she has to work a cashier job at seventy years old just to afford groceries.
I was a fool. I was arrogant, blind, and cruel. You didn't just destroy my business—you dismantled my entire existence. But we are still husband and wife. In the eyes of God, we are bound. Please, Elizabeth, come see me. Just once. Let me apologize. Let me look you in the eye and tell you I am sorry for every time I raised my hand against you.
If you have any mercy left in your heart, please answer this letter.
— Caleb.
I stared at the letter for a long time. The paper was slightly wrinkled, stained with what looked like dried coffee or tears.
I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window of my penthouse apartment—purchased legally with my own inheritance and my share of the firm’s retained earnings—and looked down at the bustling street below.
I didn’t feel anger anymore. Anger was a fire that burned out too quickly. What I felt was a cold, absolute closure.
I sat down at my mahogany writing desk, pulled out a piece of heavy cream-colored stationery embossed with my maiden name, and picked up a fountain pen.
I wrote only three sentences:
Caleb,
You asked for a wife who stayed silent in the kitchen.
Now, you have all the silence you could ever want.
May you like
— Elizabeth Vance.
I folded the letter, slipped it into an envelope, and dropped it into my briefcase. I wouldn't mail it personally. I would let the prison guards deliver it, just like they delivered every other piece of junk mail to inmates who had nothing left to lose.
