Chapter 9 - The Ghost of the Past
Two years after the trial, Sarah received a letter from a women's correctional facility. It was from Eleanor.
Curiosity overcoming her, Sarah decided to visit, accompanied by Mark and her security detail. They sat behind a glass partition. Eleanor walked in, wearing a drab orange jumpsuit. Her hair was grey, her skin wrinkled, devoid of the expensive facials and Botox she used to prize above all else.
"Sarah," Eleanor whispered, her voice cracking against the glass phone. "Thank you for coming. I... I wanted to ask for your forgiveness. The conditions here are terrible. Chloe won't talk to me because she blames me for losing her money. Your father is sick in his prison. Please, use your influence with the Vance family to get me an early parole. I am your mother."
Sarah looked at the woman who had birthed her, searching her own heart for anger, or hatred. She found nothing. Only empty space.
"You are not my mother, Eleanor," Sarah said softly, her voice peaceful. "A mother protects. A mother loves. You were just a warden in a golden cage. I don't hate you anymore. In fact, I don't think about you at all."
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"Sarah, please! Have mercy!" Eleanor cried, tears smudging her dirt-streaked face.
"I had mercy on myself and my son by cutting you out of our lives," Sarah said. She stood up, hung up the phone, and walked away without looking back. Eleanor’s screams faded behind the heavy iron doors. Sarah walked out into the bright, warm sunshine where Mark was waiting with an open car door and a smile. She was finally, completely free.
