Chapter 18 - The Janitor's Last Night
Dennis retired from the courthouse at sixty-two.
His coworkers organized a party.
He hated parties.
Sarah made him attend.
Someone had polished his old mop and tied a ribbon around it.
Dennis laughed harder than he expected.
The courthouse had changed.
New officials.
New procedures.
New faces.
Judge Cole's portrait was gone following the legal and administrative aftermath of the corruption investigation.
Barnes was no longer a shadow over the building.
Dennis walked the halls one final time.
He reached the marble lobby.
Same floor.
Same place where Sarah had called years earlier.
He could almost see his mop falling.
Almost hear:
It’s Tyler.
Dennis closed his eyes.
Then footsteps approached.
Tyler.
Now twenty-nine.
Licensed physical therapist.
Married.
Walking with a slight limp.
Alive.
Happy.
“Mom said you were getting sentimental.”
“Your mother lies.”
“Sure.”
Tyler looked at the floor.
“This where you got the call?”
Dennis nodded.
Tyler stood beside him.
For a while neither spoke.
Then Tyler said:
“You know what I remember most?”
“What?”
“Not Barnes.”
Dennis turned.
“Not the hospital either.”
“What do you remember?”
“You holding my hand.”
Dennis swallowed.
Tyler continued.
“I thought my life was over.”
“So did I.”
“You didn't say that.”
“Wouldn't have helped.”
Tyler smiled.
“You told me I didn't do it.”
Dennis nodded.
“I needed that.”
They walked toward the exit.
Dennis turned off the lobby lights.
For seventeen years before the shooting, he'd believed his greatest achievement was burying Reaper.
Afterward, he realized something else.
His greatest achievement was raising a son who didn't need Reaper to save him.
May you like
Tyler had saved himself.
One painful step at a time.
