Chapter 7 - The Final Echo
A year after the trial, Claire received a letter in the mail. It was a simple, beige envelope with no return address. Inside was a single page, typed on a manual typewriter.
“I’m out soon. I still have some things to tell the world about you. You think you’re safe, but you haven't seen the last of me.”
It was Daniel.
Claire read the letter once, then walked to her shredder and fed the paper into the blades. She didn't feel a flicker of fear. She didn't feel a tremor of anxiety.
She opened her laptop and checked her monitoring system. She had kept a small, non-intrusive eye on Daniel’s prison correspondence, just in case. She knew he had been trying to reach out to his old connections, trying to regain a foothold in the corporate world.
But he was a pariah. No one would touch him.
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Claire didn't need to respond. She didn't need to engage. She had already ensured that if he ever tried to harm her, the final set of documents—the ones detailing his most heinous, most dangerous crimes—would be automatically forwarded to the warden, the press, and the federal authorities.
He was a man trapped in a prison of his own making, and Claire was living in a world he could no longer touch.
