The letter sat on Adam's kitchen table for three days.
He'd written it, sealed it, addressed it to Lucia at the federal detention center. But he hadn't mailed it. Every morning, he looked at the envelope. Every night, he put it back in his pocket.
Sandra watched him struggle.
“You're not going to send it.”
“I don't know.”
“You're afraid she'll write back.”
“I'm afraid she won't.”
Sandra sat down across from him. “What do you want from her, Adam? What are you hoping to hear?”
“I don't know. That she's sorry. That she wishes things were different. That she didn't mean to hurt anyone.”
“She was a victim. You said so yourself.”
“Victims don't keep other victims in cages.”
Sandra was quiet for a moment. “No. They don't. But broken people do. And Lucia was broken long before Cindy fou
