The Letter Vincent Wrote at Twenty-Two
Chapter 11 - The Letter Vincent Wrote at Twenty-Two
Vincent did not deny the handwriting.
Mave showed him the note in a conference room at the federal building the morning after his release.
One sentence.
Elaine,
Michael did not make it.
I am sorry.
—V.
Vincent looked at it.
Then sat down.
“Yes.”
Mave felt strangely calm.
“You wrote it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My father told me Michael was dead.”
“You believed him.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see a body?”
“No.”
“Did you ask for one?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Keep going.”
Vincent rubbed his hands together.
He looked older outside his suit.
No tie.
White shirt.
No watch.
Government property receipt folded beside him.
“Anthony said Michael had been killed during a transfer.”
“What transfer?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“And you wrote my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Why you?”
“Elaine trusted me more than anyone left inside the family.”
“That is ugly.”
“Yes.”
“She believed you.”
“Yes.”
“Did she ask questions?”
“For months.”
Vincent looked down.
“She called twice. Then sent letters.”
“What did you say?”
“The same thing.”
Mave’s throat tightened.
“So you did not just write one lie.”
“No.”
“You repeated it.”
“Yes.”
“When did you learn he might be alive?”
“About a year later.”
Her calm fractured.
“A year.”
“Yes.”
“And you told Mom?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because by then she had disappeared again.”
“You knew where she was.”
“No.”
“Nolan did.”
“I thought Nolan was dead.”
She stopped.
True.
Vincent continued.
“I found an account authorization using Michael’s code. I asked my father. He said someone had copied it.”
“And you believed him again.”
“No.”
“When?”
“That was the moment I stopped.”
Mave laughed softly.
“How convenient.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Vincent closed his mouth.
Good.
“What did you do?”
“I started looking.”
“For Michael.”
“Yes.”
“Six million dollars.”
His eyes lifted.
“Nolan told you.”
“Yes.”
“Did you find him?”
“No.”
“Because he was hiding.”
“Yes.”
“From Dominic.”
“And my father.”
“Anthony died eleven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Michael still stayed hidden.”
“Yes.”
Mave looked toward the observation glass.
Her father was somewhere else in the same building giving a statement.
Everyone had spent decades building separate versions of the same history.
“Why didn’t you tell me after I started working for you?”
Vincent’s answer came slowly.
“Because I had no proof.”
“That is not the real answer.”
“No.”
“What is?”
He met her eyes.
“I was afraid you would leave.”
There.
No protection.
No noble reason.
Mave felt the truth like pressure beneath the ribs.
“You barely knew me when I started.”
“By the time I realized exactly who you were, you had been working for me six weeks.”
“And?”
“You made my life function.”
“That is employment.”
“Yes.”
“You trusted me.”
“Yes.”
“That is not love.”
“No.”
“You liked me.”
“Yes.”
“Later.”
“Yes.”
“Then say it correctly.”
Vincent swallowed.
“I wanted you near me.”
Mave stared.
“And I told myself not telling you about Michael was acceptable because I couldn’t prove he lived.”
He continued before she could speak.
“It was not.”
Mave looked at the letter.
“Did you ever tell Mom you doubted his death?”
“No.”
“Then she died with the lie you wrote.”
“Yes.”
Vincent’s voice broke on the word.
Mave hated that it hurt her.
She stood.
“I need distance.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“I don’t know how much.”
“Okay.”
“Do not have Leo monitor me.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not send Nolan.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not arrange anything through my building.”
“I won’t.”
“If there is a credible threat—”
“I tell Mara.”
Mave looked at him.
Good.
He had listened.
Vincent stood too.
“There is something you should know before you leave.”
She closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
“Dominic told the government where to find a second Costa ledger.”
“Your father’s.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he cooperate?”
“To reduce his exposure.”
“Does the ledger hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
Vincent did not answer.
Mave almost smiled.
“At least we’re past surprise.”
“It shows I approved six illegal freight routes after Anthony died.”
She stared.
“You told me you shut them down.”
“I shut down the people-moving route.”
“What were the six?”
“Cash. untaxed cigarettes. weapons parts.”
Mave’s stomach tightened.
“Weapons.”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone die?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not comforting.”
“No.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because the press will.”
She nodded.
Correct reason.
Not asking forgiveness.
Not curating himself.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Mave actually laughed.
Vincent almost did too.
“One route was the one Michael used while undercover.”
She stopped.
“What?”
“Your father was not only investigating us from outside.”
Vincent looked toward the wall.
“He helped run one of the smuggling lanes.”
Mave’s expression hardened.
“Undercover?”
“Mostly.”
Mostly.
There it was.
She felt the old pattern opening again.
“Mostly is a dangerous word.”
“Yes.”
Then the conference room door opened.
Michael stood there.
May you like
He had heard the last sentence.
His face said he knew exactly which route Vincent meant.
