Chapter 9 - The Final Visit(Length: ~1800 words)
Six months later.
The Cedar Hill State Correctional Institution was a cold, high-security concrete facility situated two hours outside Boston.
Inside the stark visitation room, separated by a thick glass partition, sat Julian Vance.
He wore a faded denim prison jumpsuit. His hair was shaved short, his hands were calloused from prison work details, and he had aged twenty years in appearance. The polished, arrogant handsome man who had once strutted through Boston's high-society galas was completely gone.
On the other side of the glass sat me.
I wore an elegant burgundy coat, my hair loose over my shoulders, radiating an quiet, unshakeable aura of peace and confidence.
Julian picked up the black plastic telephone receiver with trembling fingers. I slowly picked up mine.
"You came," Julian whispered, his voice hoarse through the speaker. "I... I didn't think you'd ever answer my visitation request, Clara."
"I came because this is the last time you will ever see or speak to me, Julian," I said calmly, my voice steady and clear.
Julian closed his eyes, tears welling up in his sunken sockets. "I'm so sorry, Clara. Every single day I sit in this cell, I think about what I did to you in that kitchen. I was crazy. I let greed and arrogance destroy my mind."
"You weren't crazy, Julian," I corrected him softly. "You were cruel. You thought because I was quiet, I was weak. You thought because I loved you, I would let you crush me."
"I lost everything," Julian sobbed, pressing his forehead against the cold glass partition. "My house, my company, my money, my sister... everything is gone."
"It was never yours, Julian," I reminded him flatly. "You built your life on stolen land and borrowed money. You tried to burn me away, but all you did was burn away the last piece of weakness I had left."
Julian looked up at me through his tears, seeing the faint silver line near my jawline.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked quietly.
"No," I replied, looking him dead in the eye. "It doesn't hurt at all. It reminds me of who I am."
I set the telephone receiver back onto its hook. I didn't wait for him to respond. I didn't look back as he beat his fist against the glass, screaming my name through the thick partition.
May you like
I walked out through the heavy iron security gates into the warm, golden afternoon sunlight. The air was fresh and sweet, filled with the scent of blooming spring flowers.
I took a deep, clear breath of absolute freedom, got into my car, and drove home.
