Chapter 19 - Release
Mason Cole was released after serving approximately twelve years and several months of his effective sentence, after lawful credits and transition rules.
He was fifty six.
Violet twenty eight.
I was fifty three? Start 41 +12 =53. Yes.
Victim services notified months before.
No surprise.
Release conditions as planned.
He moved to supervised housing outside county.
Worked in manufacturing quality control after approval.
No security.
No weapons? Could be supervised conditions depending felony, yes prohibited by law if applicable. No need.
No contact.
Then news outlets revisited.
Violet ignored.
I did too.
Then Mason’s attorney sent no request.
Good.
Six months later, Violet said:
“Do you think he’ll come?”
“No.”
“How know?”
“I don’t.”
She nodded.
Then:
“I'm not scared.”
“Good.”
“I’m alert.”
Better.
Then one year no incident.
Two.
Mason completed supervision? maybe 3 years.
He moved to North Carolina.
No new crime.
Then Aaron learned? They remained estranged initially.
At some point brothers had one mediated meeting.
Not our business.
Then Mason sent through supervising officer a request to participate in restorative justice panel unrelated to us.
No objection needed.
He did not use Violet name.
Fine.
Then Violet married Caleb Warren at thirty.
She invited Megan Reed, now Detective Reed.
Not Mason.
No Aaron.
At wedding, I walked her halfway? She walked herself? Let's decide:
She asked me:
“Walk with me, not give me away.”
Perfect.
We walked.
No symbolism about ownership heavy but apt.
Then she and Caleb bought house.
Security system.
She chose.
I asked once:
“Want me review?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Then:
“Actually yes, but don’t be annoying.”
I reviewed.
No master installer credential lingering.
Good.
Then Violet had daughter Rachel Warren, named after her mother.
I cried.
At hospital, I stood outside until invited.
No barging.
Violet held baby.
“Dad, meet Rachel.”
I could not speak.
Then:
“Don't turn her into mission.”
“I won't.”
Maybe.
Grandfatherhood.
Then Mason existed somewhere.
Not relevant.
That was victory.
No sequel attack.
No revenge.
No final hidden ring.
Then on Rachel's first birthday, Violet gave me photograph.
Her, baby Rachel, me.
Three generations.
She said:
“Put somewhere normal.”
Not safe.
I did.
Living room.
Next to old Rachel photo.
No Mason.
May you like
No case.
Home reclaimed.
