Chapter 23 - The Final Attempt
Despite the peace I had cultivated, the ghosts of the past occasionally rattled their chains.
A week after my transplant anniversary, I arrived at the foundation office to find a thick, manila envelope sitting on my desk. It was marked "Confidential" and bore the return address of the state penitentiary.
My heart gave a brief, phantom flutter, a reflex of old trauma. But it faded instantly, replaced by a cold indifference.
I sat at my desk and used a letter opener to slice the seal.
Inside was a long, handwritten letter from Evelyn. The handwriting was neater this time, clearly written with deliberate, calculated effort.
I read the first few lines.
"My dearest Maya. A year has passed, and not a day goes by that I don't weep for the chasm between us. Prison has given me time to reflect on the misunderstandings that led to this tragedy. The chaplain here has helped me see that God wants us to forgive. I know deep in your heart, you miss your mother. I am ready to forgive you for putting me here, if you are ready to..."
I stopped reading. I actually laughed out loud in the empty office.
She was ready to forgive me.
The absolute, unyielding narcissism of the woman was almost impressive in its delusion. She was sitting in a concrete cell for plotting my death, and she still believed she was the victim.
I didn't feel anger. I didn't feel sadness. I just felt profoundly bored by her existence.
I took a red marker from my desk drawer. I didn't write a response. I didn't explain my feelings. I simply drew a massive, thick red 'X' across the front page of the letter.
I slid the letter back into a new envelope, addressed it back to the penitentiary, and wrote "RETURN TO SENDER - NO CONTACT REQUESTED" across the front.
I walked out to the reception desk and handed it to my assistant. "Put this in the outgoing mail, please. And if anything else comes from this address, put it straight into the paper shredder. Don't even put it on my desk."
May you like
"Yes, Ms. Lawson," my assistant smiled.
I walked back into my office, the ghost permanently exorcised. She was no longer a threat. She was just a nuisance I had the power to ignore.
