Chapter 15 - A Ghost from the Past
Three peaceful, uneventful years passed before the dark past aggressively attempted to reach out and touch them one final time.
Ryan was walking down the long, gravel driveway to check the metal mailbox on a cold, snowy Tuesday morning.
Amidst the colorful grocery store flyers and standard utility bills, he found a thick, heavy envelope made of cheap, rough paper.
He froze in his tracks as he stared at the return address stamped in bold black ink on the top left corner.
It was from the maximum-security state correctional facility located over four hundred miles away.
The shaky, sloping cursive handwriting spelling out his new legal name was unmistakably that of Evelyn Whitmore.
Ryan stood completely motionless in the freezing snow, his warm breath pluming in the icy air as he stared at the horrible letter.
A brief, dangerous flicker of morbid curiosity briefly crossed his mind, wondering what desperate lies she was trying to spin from her concrete cell.
He wondered if she was finally apologizing, if she was dying, or if she was still blaming everyone else for her own calculated actions.
But as he looked up the driveway at his warm, beautiful home, he saw Maya and Oliver laughing together through the frosty kitchen window.
He realized that absolutely nothing written inside that sealed envelope could ever benefit his family or bring them any peace.
Reading her desperate words would only invite her toxic, manipulative poison back into the beautiful sanctuary he had worked so hard to build.
He turned around and walked purposefully back up the driveway, his heavy winter boots crunching loudly against the fresh white snow.
He walked directly into the living room, where a warm, crackling fire was already burning brightly in the large stone hearth.
Without a single moment of hesitation or a shred of lingering regret, Ryan tossed the unopened letter directly into the hottest part of the orange flames.
He stood silently and watched the cheap paper curl, blacken, and completely disintegrate into nothingness.
The last remaining ghost of the Whitmore empire had officially been exorcised from their lives forever.
He walked into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around his beautiful wife, and kissed his healthy, growing son on the forehead.
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Some doors in life are meant to be permanently locked and thrown away.
The Alden family was finally, truly free.
