Marcy glanced at her and nodded. Yes, she was all right, but she was also disturbed by the connection she continued to feel to Archie Colbrook. His crime had created a link between them that was like no other she’d experienced. He seemed to understand, as she now did, that for good or ill they would always be a part of each other’s lives. In the coming hours and days he would be waiting for her response, maybe wondering if he’d done the right thing in writing to her, or if he’d wasted his time. Was he nervous, or did it not really matter to him what she thought of his efforts? His purpose could have been entirely self-serving, an attempt to put himself in a good light with Dan, judge, and jury . . .

There was no denying that a part of her wanted to wreak the bitterest revenge on him, to burn his face, even kill him for what he’d done to her. It was a raging, dark, ugly part of herself that lay hidden and chafing beneath the shell of zombie-like calm she had been using to protect herself. It scared her, and she knew it could probably destroy her if she allowed it to take her over with its surges of fury and frustration, or its hunger for retribution. If it did, she was afraid she’d end up losing herself along with everything else.

Picking up the letters, she stared at them as if they might communicate answers to the questions she still had, as if in some way they’d give her the inner strength she needed to defeat her worst instincts.

She would read them again, but before that she would give them to Jasmine and hopefully Claudia would read them too. It was important to know what they thought, Henry too, before she made up her mind about what she wanted to do.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

So, Dan gave you my letters, you read them and decided you’re not going to write back. That’s cool, I get it. If I was you I wouldn’t write back to me either. What could you say that a polite person like you would want to put into writing? You might not even know the words to tell me what you think of me.

I could help you with that.

I have to admit I’m way more gutted than I expected to be by your decision and I knew it was going to be a knock-back if you didn’t want to engage, just not this big of a one. Suddenly being in prison feels a whole lot worse than it did before—and it was never good—but I expect you’ll be glad to know that. It’s what I deserve.