Chapter 19
A ddendum…
I actually wanted to end this story with Nathan’s words simply because I would have liked it better, but I have to get this one thing off my chest before my real father arrives.
My lawyer just called and told me that we have a real chance of winning against Mr. Hampton.
Bill Luther was arrested and he revealed how Arrow Corp received the information that I was being held on a cutter in the Atlantic.
Dad, that is, Mr. Hampton, told me in the penthouse that it was irrelevant.
The man they tortured for it sees things differently.
He unexpectedly survived. He recognized Bill Luther in a photo that was published in connection with my father.
He then reported him, and Bill Luther now wants to negotiate a deal with the court.
He wants immunity from prosecution if he testifies against Mr. Hampton, who ordered the torture.
Obviously, we don’t want to reveal everything about the abduction in court, but luckily, Bill Luther has other things to say, things that could actually land Mr. Hampton in prison.
I truly hope they give Mr. Luther personal protection until the trial.
But that’s not the only good news of the day.
The testimony of Mr. Hampton’s former company lawyer, Mr. Strickland, will also help us.
His daughter, my friend Penelope, also called me earlier.
She will visit soon and tell me everything.
Mr. Hampton probably tried to make Mr. Strickland the scapegoat for the events in Coldville among other things, but he is now resisting this. So, we have an even better chance.
Feeling good, I put my pen down and hope that my daughter, Ivy, will one day hold this story in her hands and understand why I had to tell her the truth about her father and grandfather.
It’s not a pretty story, but it’s a true one.
And in the end, the truth always fights its way out of the swamp.
Just like Dad’s tender words that I will whisper to Nathan tonight.
Because one thing is certain, he truly is my everything.
My day and my night. My stars in the sky and my earth.
My yesterday and tomorrow. My now. And my eternity.
I gently stroke the rough band on my wrist that Nathan gave me back for the second time that night in New York, actually, for the third time.
“At some point, enough is enough,” he scolds me lovingly, distracting me from my tears.
I get up and leave the notebook and everything else behind me. I have to help Grandma prepare everything for the barbecue because, before I’m alone with Nathan, I’m going to celebrate with all my friends and family. We’ll laugh, sing, and dance; we’ll toast to life.
Only the dead—we’ll let them rest.
THE END