Chapter 8 - The Ghost of the Past
One year later.
Inside the high-security visitor block at the Denver State Penitentiary, Taylor Bennett sat behind a thick pane of bulletproof glass.
He was wearing a faded orange prison jumpsuit. His hair was shaved, his face was lined with hollow stress, and his former arrogance had been completely crushed by the harsh reality of prison life.
A guard tapped the glass. “You have five minutes, Bennett.”
Taylor snapped his head up, his eyes widening with desperate hope as the door opened. “Sarah...? Did Sarah come?!”
The door opened, but it wasn't me.
It was my legal representative, Victoria Vance, carrying a slim leather folder.
She sat down calmly on the stool across from the glass, picking up the black telephone receiver.
Taylor grabbed his phone, his voice frantic and shaking. “Where is my ex-wife?! Why won't she answer my letters?! I want to see my daughter! I have a right to know how Lily is doing!”
Victoria looked at Taylor with cool, professional disgust.
“Taylor, Colonel Bennett will never read your letters,” Victoria said flatly. “A permanent, lifetime protective order was finalized yesterday. Your parental rights have been legally terminated. You do not exist to Lily.”
Victoria pulled a photograph from her folder and held it up against the glass.
It showed a high-resolution photo from a recent military ceremony: I stood in my dress uniform, receiving the Legion of Merit award for my service, while Mark Vance stood beside me, holding eight-year-old Lily on his shoulders. Lily was wearing a bright summer dress, holding a medal, laughing with pure, radiant joy.
“I am here to deliver a final message from Colonel Bennett,” Victoria said into the phone. “She wanted you to see this picture so you know that your cruelty failed.”
Taylor stared at the photo—at his beautiful, healthy daughter who didn't remember his face, and at the strong, honorable family that had built a life on the ashes of his destruction.
“She wanted you to know,” Victoria continued, “that while you spend the next three decades staring at concrete walls, Lily is thriving, loved, and safe under a warm sun.”
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Victoria hung up the phone, gathered her folder, and walked out of the room without looking back.
Taylor slammed his cuffed hands against the glass, screaming into the empty room until the guards dragged him back into the dark.
