I Let Her Ruin Herself Chapter 19
When I got home, Hannah was in the kitchen, heating up roasted chicken soup.
She took my coat and hung it by the door.
She already knew what had happened in the garage, but she didn’t check my phone or press me about anything Taylor had said.
“Dad!” my son shouted from the upstairs landing. “Come on! Sis and I are waiting to game with you!”
I looked up and called back that I’d be right there.
After six years of marriage, Hannah and I had a daughter and a son.
My parents were retired. At that very moment, they were traveling with Hannah’s mother, Linda. All three of them spammed the family group chat with photos every day—usually better ones than ours.
In this life, the people who loved me were at the dinner table, by the game console upstairs, and in those travel photos.
I had thought that with the garage case over, fate had finally settled its accounts.
Three months later, a lawyer placed a state prison video visitation request on my desk.
The applicant line read: Taylor Spencer.
“If you don’t want to see her, just reject it.”
Hannah pushed the request aside. She knew the whole story, but she would never make the decision for me.
“I’ll see her.”
The visit was conducted over the prison’s video system.
On the screen, Taylor wore a prison jumpsuit and had lost a lot of weight.
As soon as she picked up the phone, her first words were, “If you write to the district attorney supporting a sentence reduction, I could get out early.”
I almost laughed.
“You had someone hold a knife to me and demanded enough money to flee the country, and now you want me to help shorten your sentence?”
“I wasn’t the one holding the knife.”