Time moved differently in witness protection.
Days blurred together. Seasons changed. Life continued whether I participated or not.
I tried to do what Dante asked. To live.
I got the cat. Named her Luna. She was terrible company—aloof, demanding, utterly indifferent to my existence—but having something alive in the cabin helped.
I made one friend. Her name was Beth, a local teacher who frequented the library. She was persistent in her friendliness, wearing down my defenses until I agreed to coffee.
"You're running from something," she said one afternoon, direct as always. "Boyfriend? Family? Law?"
"All of the above," I said, which was technically true.
"Well, whoever he was, he's an idiot for letting you go."
If only she knew.
---
**Letter from Dante (Year 2):**
*Elena,*
*I've been writing a book. It's about the criminal justice system, mass incarceration, the cycle of violence that traps families like mine for generations.*
*My editor—yes, I have an editor, who knew?—thinks it might actually get published. Apparently "reformed crime boss writes about reform" has marketing appeal.*
*I never thought of myself as a writer. That was supposed to be your dream, remember? But being here, I've had a lot of time to think. To examine my life and the choices that led me to this cell.*
*I was seventeen when I killed my first person. A rival family's enforcer. He was trying to kill my father, and I—I just reacted. Pulled the trigger without thinking.*
*My father was proud. Said I'd become a man that day.*
*I threw up for hours afterward.*
*That's what the book is about. How we inherit violence. How we perpetuate it even when we don't want to. How breaking the cycle requires more than good intentions—it requires dismantling the entire system.*
*I think you'd like it. You always understood the complexity of justice vs. revenge.*
*Three years left. I'm counting down.*
*How's Montana? How's that cat you mentioned?*
*Love,
D*
---
**My response:**
*Dante,*
*A book. I'm so proud of you. Send me pages if they'll let you. I want to read every word.*
*Luna is fine. Still hates me, but she sleeps on my bed now, so I'm calling that progress.*
*Montana is... quiet. Sometimes too quiet. I miss the ocean. Miss the sound of waves at night.*
*Miss you.*
*I've been thinking about what happens after. When you get out, when I can leave witness protection. We've never really talked about it.*
*Where do we go? What do we become? Can we just... be normal people? Get an apartment, adopt a dog, have boring conversations about grocery shopping?*
*Or will we always be defined by our past? The killer and the crime boss's son, forever marked by blood and betrayal?*
*I want to believe we can have something normal. Something clean.*
*But I don't know if people like us get that.*
*Three years. God, that still feels like forever.*
*But I'll wait. I promise.*
*Love,
E*