Chapter 11 - Michael’s Letters
Michael wrote to Hannah once a month.
The first letter answered questions she had never asked aloud.
Where had he lived?
How had he watched her?
Why had he never sent a message?
He lived in safe houses under Daniel Rossi’s protection.
He monitored her through public cameras and reports from Marco.
Twice, he traveled to Chicago and stood across the street from Rosewood.
Both times, he left before she saw him.
I told myself seeing you alive was enough, he wrote.
The truth is that I was afraid you would look at me and make hiding impossible.
Hannah did not answer immediately.
The second letter contained no request for forgiveness.
The third described prison.
The fourth described Antonio.
The fifth asked whether Kayla had replaced the coffee machine.
Hannah answered that one.
No.
Some institutions remain too corrupt to reform.
The exchange grew slowly.
She wrote about the diner.
Her nightmares.
The moment she fired a gun.
The anger that arrived whenever someone called Michael’s disappearance a sacrifice.
He never corrected her language.
Lucas wrote less often.
His letters concerned Sofia and the employee trusts.
One envelope contained a brief note for Hannah.
You were right that danger does not create permission to control someone.
I learned the lesson after using it as an excuse most of my life.
That does not make the first night acceptable.
Hannah visited Lucas after two years.
He wore a gray prison uniform.
Without the suit, armed men, and penthouse, he seemed younger.
“You came,” he said.
“I wanted to know whether you still speak like every sentence is a command.”
“I am practicing questions.”
“That sounds painful.”
“Extremely.”
He asked about Rosewood.
He did not ask about Hannah and Michael.
She noticed.
“Are you curious?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you not ask?”
“Because curiosity is not ownership.”
Prison did not automatically make Lucas good.
May you like
It gave him fewer places to hide from himself.
That was different.
