Chapter 9 - The Letter from Prison
A year after the trial, a letter arrived at my office. The envelope had a federal correctional facility stamp on it.
It was from Paige.
I sat at my desk for a long time, staring at the handwriting. Part of me wanted to throw it in the shredder. But curiosity, and perhaps a small desire for closure, won. I slit the envelope open.
Dear Marissa,
I know you probably hate me, and I don't blame you.
The first six months here were the hardest of my life. I was angry. I blamed you, I blamed the marshal, I blamed Greg, and I blamed Mom and Dad. I spent every day thinking of how I was going to get back at everyone when I got out.
But they make us go to therapy here. Every week. And for the first time, I had to sit in a room with a stranger who didn't care about my excuses. She made me look at my life. She made me read the text messages I sent you. She made me look at the security footage of my kids crying while I tried to break into a safe.
I was a monster, Marissa.
I was so jealous of your success, of how easy everything seemed for you, that I convinced myself you owed me. I didn't see the hard work, the late nights, or the stress. I just saw the penthouse and the money. Mom and Dad always told me I was the special one, the one who deserved to be taken care of, and I let that ruin me.
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for what I did to you, and what I did to my kids.
Greg lets me call Nolan and Hallie once a week. They sound happy. It breaks my heart that I'm not there, but I know they are better off with him right now.
I don't expect you to forgive me, and I don't expect you to write back. I just needed you to know that I'm finally trying to grow up.
Love, Paige.
I read the letter twice. A few tears slipped down my cheeks, but they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of relief. For the first time in our lives, Paige was taking responsibility.
May you like
I didn't write back—not yet. She still had a long way to go, and I needed to protect my own peace. But I folded the letter carefully and placed it in my desk drawer.
There was a glimmer of hope for her, and for the first time, it didn't cost me a single cent.
