Chapter 5
I deserved that.
Still, I stayed.
I sat in the shelter office on a plastic chair that creaked under me and answered every question the director asked.
When did you last speak to Anna?
Ten years ago.
Why?
Because I was cruel.
Did you know she was homeless?
No.
Did you know her husband died?
No.
Did you know your grandson slept in train stations?
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
The director’s name was Ruth.
She did not soften.
“Anna came here after eviction. She said Coleman Industries refused full survivor benefits.”
My throat tightened.
“Victor handled the settlement.”
“Then Victor starved a widow.”
The words landed clean.
No drama.
Just truth.
Ruth finally gave me one address.
“Anna sometimes visits a church basement near the old factory.”
We drove there through smoke-hazed streets.
Workers still gathered near the ruins.
Some recognized me.
No one cheered.
A man shouted, “You finally came to see what we breathe?”
I kept walking.
Inside the church basement, I found Elijah.
He sat beside a woman lying on a cot.
Anna.
My daughter.
Thinner.
Older.
Still my little girl in a face I had abandoned.
Elijah stood when he saw me.
“You found us.”
I could barely speak.
“Anna.”
Her eyes opened.
For a moment, I saw recognition.
Then pain.
“Dad?”
I fell to my knees beside her cot.
“I’m here.”
She turned her face away.
“You’re late.”
Two words.
Ten years of judgment.
May you like
I bowed my head.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I am.”
