Chapter 15 - The Woman in the Prison Visiting Room
I hadn't planned to see Vivian again.
Then a letter arrived.
She claimed she had something belonging to Mom.
I suspected manipulation.
Reyes agreed.
But prison officials confirmed Vivian had surrendered an item from her personal property.
A small silver locket.
Mom's.
I went.
Not alone.
Vivian entered the visiting room wearing prison clothing.
Her hair had gone gray at the roots.
She looked smaller.
I felt nothing.
That surprised me.
“You're walking,” she said.
“With a cane.”
“You always were stubborn.”
“I learned from Mom.”
That hurt her.
Good.
Then I disliked myself for enjoying it.
Vivian placed the locket against the glass.
“She gave me this when we were teenagers.”
Inside was a photograph of two girls.
Mom and Vivian.
Laughing.
Sisters.
Before money.
Before jealousy.
Before Thomas.
Before murder.
“Why give it back?”
Vivian looked down.
“Because prison gives you time.”
“That isn't an answer.”
She swallowed.
“I spent my whole life believing Elena had everything.”
“She worked for what she had.”
“I know.”
“You tried to kill us because you were jealous?”
“When you say it like that—”
“How else should I say it?”
Vivian had no answer.
Finally she whispered:
“I hated how easily she loved you.”
I stared at her.
There it was.
The center of everything.
Not insurance.
Not property.
Not money.
Those were excuses.
Vivian had wanted what couldn't be stolen.
Love.
“I don't forgive what you did,” I said.
She nodded.
“But I'm done carrying it.”
Her eyes rose.
“Does that mean—”
“No.”
Hope disappeared.
“You don't get a relationship with me.”
I stood.
“You don't get letters. You don't get visits. You don't get updates about Dad. This is goodbye.”
Vivian touched the glass.
“Claire.”
I walked away.
My cane struck the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Steady.
Behind me, Vivian cried.
May you like
I didn't turn around.
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