Epilogue

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© Carey MacLean, 2012

Epilogue

Every year, on the same date, there came a card to one, Mrs. Mika Ryans.  The card was the same – a simple small two-by-two inches of photo-stock paper with the photo of a white oleander on it.  The only one that had contained words had been the first; the day she had married the man of her dreams – Xavier.  A man, that after fifteen years, still made her blood run hot and on many occasions, she still got the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

On her way into the house, she stopped to gather the day’s mail from the mailbox by the sidewalk.

“Mom!  Can I spend the night at Alex’s?”  She heard from the front door.

“Hello to you too,” she chuckled and didn’t even need to bend down to her fourteen year old son’s kiss as she came up the front steps.  “You can as long as you’re back before lunch tomorrow.  We have Kaylee’s birthday at the cottage.”

“Right.”

“Brent,” she gave him a warning look.

“Alright, alright!  I just don’t get why I can’t go ahead with them.  I mean, I’m already sleeping there,” he whined.

In case you hadn’t guessed it, Connor and Suzie had another child; a son named Alex.

Not too long after Mika’s and Xavier’s wedding, both she and Suzie had found out that they were expecting.  Xavier had been on cloud nine and even more proud that they had managed to conceive quite easily despite the pre-conceived notions from Mika’s specialists telling her that her likelihood of having kids would be slim to none.

They hadn’t been all wrong.  After Brent, there hadn’t been any other.  It had broken Mika’s heart but Xavier had reminded her that they had the one and that their son was a miracle and was more than they could have ever hoped for.

With a slamming of a bedroom door, she was brought back to reality.  She headed to the kitchen with the small stack of mail when she saw it – the white envelope with that same cursive writing that denoted her address.  She was confused at the sight of it though.  The cause for the confusion – the date.  It had arrived a month too early.  She couldn’t forget when it came; it was programmed in her mind – hers and Xavier’s anniversary.

She took a look at the oversized envelope, wondering why in the hell it was so big to begin with.  Leaving the pile of bills and flyers on the counter, she went to sit herself in the den and opened it.

It wasn’t the usual photo of her deadly oleander flower.

It was a letter.

A rather lengthy one at that.

My dearest Mika,

For years you must have wondered as to who I am.  Of that, by the end of this letter, you will come to know.  Call me a stranger, call me a friend, a guardian angel if you will.

By receiving this letter, it means that I am no longer of this world and so, I can no longer protect you as I have over the years.

You came to me at the worst time in your life; a time where the justice system had failed you.  I let you down.  We all have.  I look at you like you’re the daughter I’ve never had.

You are an amazing woman and I will never forget what you have done for us and that is why, when your dark side came out, I completely understood your reasons.  Like you, others had suffered at the hands of those they loved most, hands that should have never struck or harmed them in any way.  As a doctor, a protector yourself, I saw the need to see that justice was brought despite your unconventional and brutal ways of doing just that.  I had never expected for you to have taken such extreme measures but the bastards did deserve it.

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