“Make me their bitch? No. I was in for killing a man with one punch, and word spreads fast behind bars. I wasn’t someone they wanted to fuck with. But I got in a few fights over stupid shit. Nothing major. It was really just hundred-hour days and month-long nights of overthinking everything that had happened.”

“Did anyone visit you?”

He shook his head. “Michelle divorced me, as I told you, and my father and sister weren’t speaking to me. My grandfather was going to come out early on, but I told him not to. I didn’t want him traveling all that way just to see me behind bars. I thought we’d catch up after I got out. He was such a strong presence in my life, such a strong man, it never crossed my mind that I wouldn’t get a chance to try to make it up to him.”

They’d had dinner with his grandfather last week, and Madigan had gotten approval to continue working with him. “He loves you unconditionally. I don’t think you have anything to make up to him.”

“He believed in me when nobody else did, and I hate that I let him down.”

She stepped in front of him, so she could have his full attention. “I can’t imagine that your grandfather will find fault in protecting your sister. I bet if you caught him in a lucid moment and told him how you feel, he’d tell you that you need to forgive yourself so you can heal.”

His arms circled her, and he held her close. He didn’t say a word, just kissed the top of her head. But she felt his struggle between wanting to heal and feeling like he didn’t deserve to.

“Thank you.” He put his arm around her, keeping her close as they continued walking down the beach. “What else do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Of course you do.”

“Did you reach out to your sister during those three years?”

“I wrote to her every week for two years, and my letters were returned unopened with Return to sender scribbled on the envelopes.”

She was crushed for him. “Oh, Tobias. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s life.”

“Have you tried to contact her since you got out?”

“No. She has a good life with her daughter, and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“How do you know she has a good life?”

“Because I’ve checked on her,” he said sharply.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“Yes, you do, and it’s okay, Mads. I’m not upset with you. I don’t want to leave you in the dark about anything. I miss her, and it’s just hard to talk about.”

“I understand. But three years is a long time. Maybe she’s changed her mind.”