Chapter 18 - The Unopened Letter
A year after the sentencing, a letter arrived at my penthouse from the Clinton Correctional Facility in Dannemora, New York.
It was written on thin, lined prison paper in faint pencil strokes.
Maya,
I know you will probably burn this letter before reading it, but I needed to write it anyway.
The prison chaplain gives us one hour of television time a week, and I saw you on the news last night.
You were standing on the steps of City Hall, glowing, receiving a medal from the Mayor.
I spend every night in this four-by-eight cell staring at the concrete ceiling, listening to the iron gates slam shut.
I destroyed my own life because I was terrified of being overshadowed by your grace and your intelligence.
I thought hurting you would make me feel powerful... but it only revealed how small I truly was.
I don't expect you to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that you won.
Logan.
I read the letter quietly, holding it over the small marble fireplace in my living room.
May you like
I released it, watching the paper catch fire and curl into black ash that disappeared up the chimney.
Some debts are paid in full, and some doors are meant to stay locked forever.
