Joseph stood outside the seaside clinic just after sunrise, the sky blushing with faint gold.
He held a sealed envelope, thick with documents.
Inside: Stella's full exoneration papers, a bank draft returning her withheld wages—with interest—and a one-way ticket to anywhere she chose.
He didn't ask for a meeting.
Didn't knock on her door.
Just handed the packet to the nurse at the reception desk.
“She'll ask who sent it," the nurse said.
“Tell her a friend. No name."
He turned before the nurse could respond, disappearing into the mist.
---
Inside, Stella blinked as the nurse entered her room.
“This came for you."
She took the packet warily. Slid it open.
Her hands stilled over the first sheet—an official pardon, stamped by the council.
Then another—a check. Her name, in bold.
