Chapter 9 - The Last ConversationThe prison visiting room was cold.
Marcus sat behind thick glass.
His hair had turned almost completely white.
Evelyn picked up the phone.
"Hello, Marcus."
He looked at her.
"Did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That I was his son."
Evelyn shook her head.
"I suspected."
He laughed bitterly.
"Thirty years."
He looked down.
"I spent thirty years believing I wasn't wanted."
Evelyn's eyes filled.
"You were."
"No."
"You were."
He stared at her.
"Then why didn't anyone say it?"
Evelyn couldn't answer.
Because the answer was shame.
Fear.
Pride.
Cowardice.
All the things families bury until the buried things become monsters.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Marcus closed his eyes.
After a long silence, he looked toward me.
"Tell the little girl I'm sorry."
I stepped closer.
He looked at me through the glass.
"You have your grandfather's eyes."
His voice cracked.
"Don't become like me."
The guards came.
Marcus stood.
He didn't look back.
Evelyn remained seated long after he disappeared.
Then she whispered:
May you like
"Let's go home."
And this time, the word home meant something.
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