Page 47

Mackenzie

The letter sits on my kitchen counter. The envelope is wrinkled from being picked up and put down too many times. Crystal’s handwriting covers the page, neat and loopy, just like she always wrote. Confident, like she always seemed. Or pretended to be.

It’s been over four months since she was put in jail. Found guilty of something so dark, it still makes it hard to breathe when I think about it.

Come visit me.

That’s how the letter starts. So casual. Like she’s inviting us to her home for lunch. Now, she’s famous for all the wrong reasons. Grantham has told us her visitor list looks like something from a magazine. But she doesn’t care about the public.

She wants us.

Theo. Austin. Rhys. Me.

The ones who knew her before all of this. Before they found Justin in the freezer. Before the courtroom. Before the truth.

I haven’t written back. None of us have. But she keeps trying. When I ignore her, she writes to Theo. Then Austin. Then Rhys. Like she’s checking off names one by one. I can see her now, pacing in her cell, thinking through her next move, trying to matter again.

Any time I feel a bit of sympathy for her, Gina’s voice plays in my head.

“ She told me to move out of the San Francisco house ,” Gina told me a few weeks ago. “ Can you believe that? Like it was ever hers. ” Gina and Graham had been staying in that house since they first flew in to be interviewed by the grand jury.

It wasn’t Crystal’s, even though she lived there. The property, the papers, the memories—they all belonged to Justin. And now to Gina.

“ When I asked how she could let someone she loved die like that ,” Gina told me, “ she didn’t even blink . She said Justin deserved everything he got. ”

Divorce had been an option. Gina told me she’d reminded her of that. California would’ve split everything evenly. But Crystal didn’t want half. She wanted everything.

She wanted to win.

And so, Theo and I have discussed this with Austin and Rhys. They have no interest in Crystal, but Theo and I will go. We’re the ones who once thought of her as a friend.

The plane touches down in Bakersfield, and the moment the wheels hit the tarmac, it all becomes real. No longer letters. No longer theory.

This is happening.

My stomach twists, a deep knot of dread pulling tight.

A car waits at the base of the plane stairs. We settle in the backseat, our shoulders touching.

“You okay?” Theo asks softly.

I nod. “Just…trying to prepare.”

We don’t talk during the ride. Outside, dry grass, metal fences, and bits of tired green flash by. Everything looks hot and worn out.

When we get to the prison, the tall concrete walls, razor wire, and thick gates feel oppressive. This place doesn’t seem like it was made for people.

We show our IDs and empty our pockets, take off our shoes and walk through metal detectors. I smile at the woman behind the counter, but she doesn’t even look at me as she locks up my purse.

“Locker number seven,” she says.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

Theo gives me a small smile. I try to smile back.

We’re led to the visitation room. It’s cold and sterile, more hospital waiting area than prison. But just before we reach our seats, I freeze.

A man a few feet away is moving his hand under the table in a rhythm that turns my stomach. Across from him, a woman has her shirt pulled up, her eyes locked on his. No shame. Just emptiness.

“Jesus,” Theo mutters, stiffening.

I can’t look away. I want to, but the shock roots me in place. The scene is raw, uncomfortable, and it makes everything feel too real. This isn’t just a facility. It’s a different world, one where dignity and boundaries have long gone.

A place that Crystal earned.

A guard catches our reaction and quickly moves in, placing himself between us and the scene.

“This way,” he says, steering us toward a more private section of the room.

I glance back once more. The image sticks. A silent reminder that we’ve crossed a line, into a place built not just to contain, but to strip away.

And somewhere in here, Crystal is waiting.

A few minutes later, I sit stiffly, fingers tracing the edge of the cold steel table bolted to the floor. Theo’s hand rests gently on my knee, grounding me, but it barely touches the storm inside my chest. Around us, conversations hum, broken only by the occasional slam of a distant door.

Then she appears.

Crystal steps through the side door, a guard trailing behind her. Her hands are cuffed to a belt around her waist.

My breath catches. Her appearance is jarring. The confident, polished woman we knew is gone. Her once-blonde hair now hangs in dull, dark strands around her face. Her eyes have faded to stormy gray, hollow and unreadable.

She seems smaller. Not just physically, but in presence.

And yet, she still carries the faint outline of the person she used to be.

She takes a seat across from us, separated by thick glass. She lifts the black telephone receiver. We do the same.

“Are you and Theo together?” she demands.

I hesitate only for a breath before meeting her gaze. “Yes,” I say. “We are.”

A smile tugs at her lips, but it isn’t kind. It’s twisted. “I made such a big deal about it back then,” she says, like she’s reminiscing. “Because I knew how much Theo liked me. I didn’t think I deserved him. And I knew you didn’t. But turns out…I did. I was the one who kept you two apart.” She looks at me proudly.

I don’t even know what that means. I stopped thinking of her as honest a long time ago. She’s always used people and twisted things to get what she wanted. Now, she’s pretending I’m his second choice. I shake my head. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like a show.

Theo’s hand gently tightens on my knee, a small, steady reminder of where we are now. Of how much we’ve grown.

“Crystal, even if things had been different, I never would’ve dated you,” Theo tells her. “You manipulate people. And I never would have done that to my best friend.”

She just shrugs, like it means nothing. Her eyes narrow, sharp and cold. “I’m still the biggest single shareholder of EnergiFusion,” she says. “You’ll send money to my account. I need it for commissary.”

I’m shocked by her nerve. But she’s not finished.

“And,” she adds, “I want to shut the company down. Without SHN’s support, EnergiFusion will be nothing but ash.”

I can’t even breathe. The boldness of this is unreal.

“Have you talked to anyone at SHN?” Theo asks.

Crystal leans back like she’s in charge. “I’ve sent word to Mason Sullivan.”

Her arrogance is palpable but entirely misplaced. There’s nothing left for her to take. Not our peace. Not our future. And definitely not our company.

I take a deep breath and speak clearly. “Crystal, the partnership rules are clear. If someone has injured the company, they lose their shares. The moment you were indicted by the grand jury, Justin’s shares went to his mother. And your shares now belong to me and Jeannie, the CFO. You’re in prison, so you don’t own any part of the company.”

Silence.

For the first time, she doesn’t say a word. No fake smile. No sharp reply.

Just stillness.

And in that quiet, everything is clear.

For the first time since Justin died, I feel something close to peace.

“You can’t do that to me!” Her face turns bright red. Her calm falls apart right in front of us. “It’s a setup!” she yells. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You wanted me gone!”

Theo stays calm. If anything, there’s a small flash of pity in his eyes. “I do feel sorry for you,” he says. “No matter what you had, it was never enough.”

She glares at him like she wants to burn through the glass with her eyes.

But Theo doesn’t flinch. His voice stays steady. “I’ll put five hundred dollars in your commissary account. That’s it. We’re not coming back, except maybe for your funeral because that’s how long you’re going to be here.”

Crystal jerks back like he hit her. “Impossible,” she says. Then louder, panicked, “You can’t just take what’s mine!”

“We didn’t take anything,” I say. “You gave it up the moment you killed our friend. You signed the agreement. The rule is clear. We’ll have the lawyer send you a copy.”

She slams her hands against the glass with a loud bang.

I flinch, my heart pounding.

“Do what I want!” she screams, her voice warped through the thick wall and phone. “I built that company!”

Theo’s hand rests on my shoulder, solid and steady. “You don’t have anyone left,” he tells her. “Not after what you did. You tried to break us, but we’re still here. Still standing together, and you’re the one alone.”

Her face twists with anger. “Justin was awful to me! All of you—you treated me like I didn’t belong from the start!”

Theo leans in, eyes hard. “Justin was the best thing that ever happened to you. And you know it.” He doesn’t blink. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve walked away, gone back to Atlanta, Florida, anywhere. We would’ve helped. You had options. But you stayed. You schemed. And you chose this path.” He looks at her a moment. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

Crystal goes still. Her mouth opens like she wants to respond, but nothing comes. No rage. No excuses. Just silence.

For the first time, she looks small. Stripped bare. Alone. Facing a prison of her own making.

We rise, and Theo carefully replaces the phone. There’s nothing left to say.

As the guard approaches, Crystal doesn’t move. She still clutches the phone.

We walk away.

And we don’t look back.

We’re finally free.

The heavy door shuts behind us, and her voice fades, just a faint echo behind the thick glass and steel. We collect our things from the lockers—keys, phone, purse. We don’t say much. Every move feels quiet and automatic.

Back in the car, I let out a breath. “I made a reservation in Bakersfield,” I tell Theo. “Somewhere quiet. Comfort food.”

He nods, looking out at the road. The desert rolls by in dusty gold and faded brown—dry, empty, endless.

“Do you think she’ll ever get out?”

Theo glances over. “I asked Grantham. She can appeal, but skipping the trial and sentencing made her look bad. The vlogs she released showed that she was watching. And we made sure she had a good lawyer. No one will believe she didn’t understand what she was doing.”

“So she’s really staying there. For good.”

“Unless something truly unexpected happens,” he says. “But there’s nothing extraordinary about her anymore.”

I plug our destination into the navigator, and eventually, the car stops in front of a small building with flames painted on the windows and a flashing neon sign. It’s loud and proud, a barbecue place that looks like a roadside legend.

Theo steps out first. “How did you find this place?” he asks with a grin.

I shrug. “Yelp!, of course.”

Inside, we’re engulfed by the scent of smoke, spice, and slow-cooked comfort. The walls are covered in old license plates and glowing beer signs. We slide into a booth in the back and order the four-meat platter with all the sides.

When it comes, hot and delicious, it feels like the first real meal we’ve had in a long time.

For the first time all day, I smile.

The lemonade is cold, a little sour, and just what I needed.

“What did she mean?” I ask. “About keeping us apart?”

His smile fades. “After we slept together the first time, I told her how happy I was,” he says. “She told me if I didn’t end it—or convince you to leave—she’d ruin everything. She said you’d sue, wreck the company, and hurt Justin. And unfortunately, I believed her.”

There’s pain in his voice, but he’s not making excuses. He’s just telling the truth. And it’s done now. We made it through.

“She tried to break us,” I say softly. “But she couldn’t.”

His hand finds mine across the table. Strong. Steady. “We were meant to be together,” he says.

I look down at our hands, fingers laced. This man has stood by me through everything. The mess, the hurt, the silence. The worst moments—and the best.

And now, here in this smoky little restaurant in the middle of nowhere, I feel something I didn’t expect. “I want to marry you.”

Theo freezes. Then slowly, he smiles that quiet, deep smile of his. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper, my eyes stinging with tears. “I do.”

“But you told me you never wanted to marry.”

I grin at him. “You’ve changed my mind.”

“Did you just propose to me?” he asks.

“I think I did.” I smile, my cheeks warm. “But I wouldn’t say no to being asked properly.”

“Noted.” He takes my hand again, running his thumb over my fingers. “Mackenzie, I’ve loved you since the day we met. I tried to fight it, tried to be smart, but nothing has ever made more sense than this. Than you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Warmth floods through me like sunshine after a storm.