Chapter 9 - The Last Letter
In autumn of that year, a heavy white envelope arrived at Skylar’s office address, stamped with the seal of the Florida Department of Corrections.
It was a letter from Derek, written from his cell in the state penitentiary.
Skylar sat at her executive desk, holding the letter in her hands. For a brief second, her mind flashed back to the sound of the ceramic mug shattering against the kitchen wall and the terrible heat of the scalding coffee.
She opened the envelope and unfolded the handwritten page.
Skylar,
I am writing this because my inmate rehabilitation counselor told me I needed to face the truth of what I did to you. I spent every day for the last year believing I was the victim, blaming you for my sentence, blaming the lawyers, blaming everyone except myself.
I see it now. I see how terribly I treated you. I saw what my sister and I were doing to your spirit. You gave me love, stability, and a future, and I returned it with cruelty, greed, and violence.
I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I just want you to know that you were right to leave me in that kitchen. Breaking away from me was the smartest thing you ever did.
I hear about your promotions on the news in the prison common room. I see the work your foundation is doing. You are incredible, Skylar. You always were. I was just too blind and arrogant to see it.
Derek
Skylar read the letter carefully from start to finish.
She didn't feel rage. She didn't feel satisfaction. She felt a peaceful, absolute sense of closure.
She folded the letter, walked over to the paper shredder beside her desk, and slid the paper into the slot.
Whirrrrrr.
May you like
The letter was instantly reduced to tiny white ribbons, falling away into nothingness.
She closed the shredder drawer, wiped her hands, and looked out her office window at the bright sun shining over Miami. The past was officially gone, completely destroyed and buried beneath the triumph of her present.
