Chapter 22 - The Vault
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The attorney’s office was located on the forty-second floor of a gleaming glass skyscraper downtown. I sat in a high-backed leather chair, looking out at the sprawling, uninterrupted view of the city. My lead counsel, a sharp, unyielding woman named Diane, sat across the heavy oak desk, organizing a stack of final trust documents.
“This is the last of it,” Diane announced, tapping the papers against the desk to align them perfectly. “We have successfully completely severed any lingering financial ties, hypothetical liabilities, and historical links between your estate and the Daniels family. Your trust is entirely locked down. Even if Colin attempted to file a frivolous civil suit in the future, the structural firewalls we built would instantly dismiss it.”
“He won't file a suit,” I said quietly, signing my name on the final signature line. “He doesn't have the money to hire a lawyer, and he knows I would publicly destroy whatever miserable reputation he has left.”
“It is always better to rely on ironclad legal structures rather than the predictable cowardice of your enemies,” Diane noted, sliding the documents into a thick, fireproof folder.
“Where is the letter?” I asked suddenly.
Diane paused, her professional demeanor softening slightly. She unlocked her bottom drawer and pulled out a single, sealed envelope. It was the letter Colin had sent a year ago. The one he asked me to keep for future review.
“It has been in the vault,” Diane said, placing it on the desk between us. “You requested that I store it until you were ready to make a decision about it.”
I stared at the envelope. Inside was his perspective. His carefully crafted apologies, his desperate justifications, and his pathetic attempts to explain why he allowed my body to rot to save his sister's pride.
“I want you to destroy it,” I ordered, my voice carrying absolutely no hesitation.
“Are you certain? You don't want to read it even once for closure?”
May you like
“My closure is the scar on my back and the peace in my house,” I replied smoothly. “I don't need his version of the truth. Shred it, Diane.”
She nodded, feeding the envelope directly into the heavy-duty shredder beside her desk. I watched the paper disappear into ribbons, completely erasing his voice from my life forever.
