Chapter 17 - THE VISITOR FROM THE PAST
At 2:00 PM, while I was wrapping up a contract review in my office on Michigan Avenue, my assistant knocked on the glass door.
"Mr. Vance? There’s a gentleman in the lobby asking to see you. He says he’s an attorney representing Paige Vance."
My hand froze over my fountain pen. I kept my face expressionless, setting the pen down carefully on the blotter. "Send him in, Sarah."
A young man in a slightly rumpled suit stepped into the office, carrying a thin manila envelope. He looked nervous, shifting his weight under my steady, unblinking gaze.
"Mr. Vance," he began, clearing his throat. "My name is Arthur Pendelton. I was assigned to represent your sister, Paige Vance, for her upcoming parole eligibility hearing."
"Paige isn't eligible for parole for another four years," I said coldly.
"Normally, yes," Pendelton said, placing the envelope on the edge of my desk. "However, she has submitted a formal petition for early administrative review based on medical hardship and... remorse. She requested that I deliver a personal affidavit to you, asking for a letter of non-opposition to present to the board."
I didn't reach for the envelope. "What kind of medical hardship?"
"Severe psychological distress and isolation-induced depression," Pendelton replied, his voice dropping slightly. "She claims the conditions in the state facility are unbearable."
A cold, razor-thin smile touched the corners of my mouth. Isolation.
"Tell me, Mr. Pendelton," I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the desk. "Did Paige tell you about the storage pantry in my house? Did she mention the three-by-six foot space where my wife spent eighteen months because Paige didn't want the neighbors asking questions about her shaved head?"
Pendelton blinked, his face flushing crimson. "I... I was only given the court transcripts regarding the financial wire transfers, sir."
"Then you don't know the whole story," I said, picking up the unopened manila envelope and sliding it directly into the paper shredder beside my desk. The machine whirred to life, grinding Paige's desperate petition into thin, illegible strips of white paper.
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"Tell my sister," I said as the machine finished its work, "that she is currently living in luxury compared to what she inflicted on my wife. My non-opposition is denied. She will serve every single day of her seven years."
Pendelton swallowed hard, nodded once without another word, turned on his heel, and hurried out of the office.
