Chapter 22 - The Letter
The past tried to reach out one last time, in the form of a prison-stamped envelope.
It arrived in the morning mail. The return address read: Grant Holloway, Federal Correctional Institution, Marion, IL.
I recognized his handwriting immediately. My protective instincts flared, and I almost threw it directly into the trash before Hannah could see it. But I knew better. She wasn't a fragile bird anymore.
I handed her the letter when she came downstairs for her shift.
Hannah looked at the envelope. She didn't open it. She didn't even trace his name with her finger. She simply walked over to the large, commercial gas stove in the kitchen.
She turned on the burner, held the envelope over the open blue flame, and watched the paper catch fire. She dropped the burning letter into an empty steel sink, watching it curl into black ash.
May you like
"Did you want to know what it said?" I asked gently.
"No," Hannah smiled, turning on the faucet and washing the ashes down the drain. "It's just garbage."
