PART 15 — A LETTER FROM A CAGE
PART 15 — A LETTER FROM A CAGE
Before I could leave the house, the mail arrived. There was a plain white envelope. Postmarked from the state penitentiary. Addressed to Emily. She stared at it for a long time. Ethan’s handwriting. She didn’t open it immediately. She went to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and sat down. Then, she ripped the envelope open. Not with trembling hands. With clinical precision. She read it in silence. I watched her face. No tears. No fear. Just a cold, hard realization. She pushed the letter across the table to me. “He wants a deal,” she said. I read the jagged handwriting. Ethan Prescott, the golden boy who used to wear Italian suits, was begging. Prison had broken him. He wrote that his mother had abandoned him. That Brandon was hoarding the remaining family wealth and refusing to pay for Ethan’s appeals. He was drowning. And like a drowning man, he was willing to drag his family down with him. “Emily, I know what Brandon is doing to your center. I can prove it. I know where he keeps the real ledgers. Just get me a lawyer. Please.” I looked up. “He’s offering us the bullet to put Brandon away.” Emily took a sip of her coffee. “He thinks I’ll save him because I used to love him.” “Will you?” I asked gently. She looked at me. Her eyes were clear. “I am going to visit my husband.” She stood up. “And I am going to take everything he has to offer. Without giving him a single thing in return.”
