Chapter 14 - The Letter I Finally Wrote
I wrote to my father on a Sunday morning.
The diner was closed.
Rain tapped against the windows.
I sat beneath his photograph.
Dear Dad, I began.
Then I stopped.
There were too many things to say.
I wanted to tell him about Vale.
About the ledger.
About the courtroom.
About the day I walked away.
Instead, I wrote about breakfast.
The smell of fresh bread.
June laughing in the kitchen.
Finn fixing a stubborn refrigerator.
Customers greeting me by name.
I told him I had found safety.
Not in a mansion.
Not in somebody else's protection.
In a life I helped build.
When I finished, I folded the letter.
I placed it beside his photograph.
Then I opened the front door.
A young man stood outside.
He asked whether we were hiring.
His hands were shaking.
I remembered how that felt.
"Come back tomorrow," I said.
"We'll talk about what you need."
He thanked me twice.
I watched him disappear down the street.
Then I returned to my letter.
May you like
At the bottom, I added one sentence.
I think you would like who I've become.
