Chapter 14 - Twenty-Five YearsThe sentence was twenty-five years in a maximum-security psychiatric facility.
David never attended the sentencing in person.
He didn't need to.
His mother would no longer be able to reach them.
No more calls.
No more unexpected packages.
No more footsteps outside the house.
No more watching the cameras at night.
No more wondering whether every car slowing down outside belonged to her.
The judge's decision couldn't erase the past.
But it could protect the future.
And that was enough.
David deleted his mother's contact information.
Then he stared at the empty space where her name had been.
He expected sadness.
Instead, he felt something unexpected.
Peace.
Not happiness.
Not forgiveness.
Just peace.
May you like
Sometimes closure isn't an apology.
Sometimes closure is simply realizing you no longer have to wait for one.
