Chapter 20
Christmas came.
It was the first Christmas without Vanessa in four years.
The house smelled of cinnamon and pine. The tree was covered in ornaments the children had made. There were mountains of presents. More than any three people could ever need. But Michael couldn’t help himself. After everything they had been through, he wanted to give his children the world.
On Christmas Eve, they watched old movies and ate popcorn and drank hot chocolate until their stomachs hurt. When the children were asleep, Michael sat alone by the tree, looking at the photograph on the mantel.
It was a new photograph. Taken just last week at the beach. The three of them, covered in sand, grinning like idiots. No bruises. No fear. No secrets. Just a father and his children, happy and whole.
A soft knock at the door.
Cole stood on the porch. He had officially left the security detail three months earlier, when the FBI assured Michael Vanessa would never get out. But he still checked in occasionally. Still cared.
“Merry Christmas, Michael,” he said.
“Cole! Come in. It’s freezing out there.”
Cole stepped inside. He was holding a small, wrapped box.
“For the kids,” he said. “Nothing much. Just something.”
Michael poured him a glass of whiskey.
They sat by the fire in comfortable silence.
“I got a call from the FBI today,” Cole said finally. “Vanessa tried to kill herself in prison. Slit her wrists with a razor blade she smuggled in. They found her in time. She’ll live.”
Michael stared into his drink.
He should have felt something.
Satisfaction. Pity. Anger. Grief.
But he felt nothing.
Vanessa was a ghost now. A character in a story he had finished reading. She had no power over him anymore. No power over his children. She was just a woman in a cell, alone with her own hatred, slowly rotting away.
“Does she know we’re happy?” Michael asked.
“Probably not. The guards say she doesn’t talk to anyone. Doesn’t read the news. Just sits in her cell and stares at the wall. She’s been in solitary since the trial. Refuses all visitors. Even her lawyer.”
“Good,” Michael said. “Let her rot.”
He stood and walked to the window. The moon was full over the ocean. Somewhere a dog barked. Inside the house, all was warm and safe and quiet.
“I don’t hate her anymore,” he said quietly. “I thought I would forever. But I don’t. I just… feel nothing. It’s like she never existed. Like the whole year was just a bad dream we all woke up from.”
“Time heals all wounds,” Cole said.
“Not all,” Michael corrected. “But the ones that don’t kill you make you stronger. Or so they say.”
They finished their drinks. Cole stood to leave.
“One more thing,” he said at the door. “The FBI is exhuming the bodies of Daniel Torres and Robert Chen. With Marcus’s testimony and the pattern established at your trial, they think they can finally get convictions for both murders. Vanessa will never see the outside of a prison again. Not in this lifetime.”
“Good,” Michael said again.
He closed the door behind his friend and leaned against it, closing his eyes.
May you like
It was over.
Really, truly over.
