Chapter 16
Summer brought tourists, vibrant community festivals, and endless sunlit days spent walking along the rocky coastline. Their cottage was frequently filled with the joyful laughter of rescued animals, visiting friends from their military days, and local artists supporting Sarah's gallery.
Caleb's work at the advocacy center expanded rapidly, earning him state-level recognition for pioneering holistic support systems for domestic trauma survivors. Yet despite the accolades and awards, he remained the same grounded, protective husband who simply wanted to keep his wife safe.
One warm August afternoon, while checking the mail on their front porch, Caleb noticed a heavy, cream-colored envelope addressed in unfamiliar handwriting with no return address. He frowned slightly, turning it over in his hands with cautious curiosity.
"Is everything alright, Caleb?" Sarah asked, stepping out onto the porch with a watering can for the window boxes.
May you like
"Just an unmarked letter," Caleb replied, slicing open the flap with his pocketknife and pulling out a single sheet of heavy parchment paper.
He scanned the handwritten message quickly, his jaw tightening slightly before smoothing out into a calm, unbothered expression. It was a brief, anonymous note postmarked from a federal correctional facility in upstate New York.
