The official investigation lasted nearly a full year. But the people at the top were locked away almost immediately. The records Mike had gathered piece by piece became the backbone of the case.
By risking his life on that construction site, he helped expose one of the biggest criminal schemes the region had seen in years. Notary Gerald Harris lost his license and went to prison. Dr. Krasner followed him there.
The gang boss and his crew disappeared behind bars for a long time. Mike paid only passing attention to the headlines. What mattered to him was that the law had finally made his family safe.
He refused an invitation to travel to the capital for commendations. Victor even offered him a position in the central office.
“I appreciate it,” Mike said with a tired smile at the train station. “But I’m done fighting other people’s wars. The one that matters is at home.”
For the first month, he lived between the military hospital and a rented apartment.
Ellen’s recovery from the heavy psychiatric drugs was painfully slow. The doses had burned black gaps into her memory. Those empty places were filled with fear and suspicion. She could sit for hours on the edge of the hospital bed staring at nothing. Every sudden sound in the hallway made her flinch.
Mike came every day without fail. He brought the same stack of old letters, worn soft and still faintly smelling of dust and travel. He would sit beside her, take her hand, and read aloud.
“Ellen, today we crossed a hard mountain pass. The snow here is as white as back home. I’ll be home soon, and we’ll buy Katie that red bicycle.”
For the first several days she gave no sign she heard him. But on the tenth day, something changed.
He was reading a letter about the year they ruined a batch of pancakes on New Year’s morning. Suddenly her fingers moved in his hand. Slowly she turned her head toward him. In her eyes, finally narrowed to something like normal, a spark of recognition flickered…
