Chapter 7 - VISITS IN THE DARK
A year later.
The Federal Correctional Institution in Cumberland, Maryland, sat tucked behind high security fences and rolling green hills. It was a low-security facility, but the grey concrete walls and heavy iron gates left no doubt about the nature of the institution.
In the small, sterile visiting room—furnished with blue plastic chairs and Formica tables—Andrew Vance sat waiting.
He wore a plain khaki prison uniform. His hands were smooth no longer; four years of working in the facility's landscaping and maintenance detail had calloused his palms and hardened his forearms. His hair was cropped short and entirely silver at the temples.
The heavy door opened, and a guard escorted me into the room.
I sat down across the table from him. I wore a simple burgundy sweater and dark jeans, holding a single leather notebook.
For two minutes, neither of us spoke. The quiet humming of the vending machine in the corner was the only sound in the room.
"Thank you for coming, Lauren," Andrew said finally, his voice deep, raspy, stripped of all its former theatrical flair.
"The board of trustees approved your request for a formal property release signature, Andrew," I said, opening my notebook. "Since the bankruptcy proceedings are officially concluded, the trustee needs your final signature to relinquish any residual tax claims on the old family townhouse."
Andrew looked down at the document I placed before him. He didn't pick up the pen immediately. He looked at my hands—my steady, unadorned hands.
"How are the girls?" he asked softly.
"Sophia is twelve now," I said. "She was accepted into the Governor’s STEM Academy last month. She wants to be a structural engineer."
A faint, sad smile touched Andrew’s lips. "A builder. Like your father."
"Yes," I replied. "And Chloe is nine. She’s playing cello in the youth orchestra. She has your mother’s ear for music, but her grandfather’s temper when she practices."
Andrew closed his eyes for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping his chest. "Do they... do they ever ask about me?"
I didn't lie to him. I didn't owe him comforting fictions.
"They ask sometimes," I said cleanly. "Sophia knows the truth about the legal proceedings. She understands what happened. Chloe knows you are in a facility finishing a legal sentence. Neither of them holds hatred for you, Andrew. But they have built a life that is complete without you."
Andrew nodded slowly, his chin trembling slightly. He picked up the pen and signed his name neatly at the bottom of the property release form—Andrew E. Vance.
"I got my parole date," he whispered, looking down at the table. "November of next year. Six months early for good behavior."
"That’s good, Andrew," I said sincerely. "You should use that time to build something real."
"I don't have anywhere to go, Lauren," he said, looking up at me with a raw, terrifying honesty. "Vance Global is gone. The name is worthless. Mother is living in a assisted apartment in Richmond... she doesn't even recognize me half the time when I call her. She just asks when the next gala is."
"You have your health, Andrew," I told him, closing my notebook. "And you have your freedom coming next year. That is more than you gave our daughters when you tried to pledge their future for a loan."
He looked at me for a long moment, then bowed his head. "I am sorry, Lauren. I know those words mean nothing to you now. But... every night when the lights go out in this block, I see that table. I see my mother taking those plates away. And I see myself sitting there, holding that stupid glass of champagne."
"That was the man you were, Andrew," I said, rising from the plastic chair. "Who you become when you walk out those gates next year is entirely up to you."
I walked toward the exit door, signaling to the guard.
May you like
Before I stepped through, I looked back one last time. Andrew was sitting at the plastic table, staring down at his calloused hands, quiet and still in the grey light of the visiting room.
I stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine, took a deep breath of the mountain air, and got back into my car to drive home to my daughters.
